The Bridge
by 96 Hubbles
Summary: Kinch is interrogated and has a strange story to tell.
1. prologue

_Disclaimer: Don't own them, and unless I have some vastly improbable luck with the lottery, never will. Till then, just playing. Show's characters belong to Viacom, and the true owner of "Dr. Tall" will be revealed later along with his real identity._

**The Bridge**

Kinch was lead to the third door on the left side of the lower basement corridor. He knew Carter was in the first room on the right - the younger sergeant had given him a nervous look as they were separated - but he didn't know where the others were. He had tried to reassure Carter the best he could, but now as he was taken into the room and the door was shut behind him, he could feel his stomach tensing.

It was a dull, utilitarian sort of room; no windows and unfurnished except for a long table and six chairs. The one on his side was empty, the other five - facing him - were filled.

One man appeared to be in the navy, an Admiral if he was reading the insignia right. Two of the others were wearing civilian suits - very academic ones with chalk dust covered lapels. Scientists, Kinch supposed. One was very tall, maybe 6'5", with thinning black hair and large hands. The other was a fussy looking man with a very suspicious expression.

His main questioner was another uniformed man who was seated at the center of the table directly across from him. Grizzled, grey-haired and gaunt, he was every inch the fighting General. It was surprising to Kinch to see such high-level officers here, yet when he considered the situation it was not so perplexing.

However, it was the last man whose presence Kinch couldn't figure out. In his mid-forties, with his blond hair cut extremely short and possessing slightly bulging eyes which gave the slightly cold, dead-eyed look of a fish, he wore a civilian suit and sat at the end of the table languidly smoking a cigarette. Throughout the proceedings he would say nothing, but Kinch was always conscious that the man's motionless gaze never left him.

The General finally addressed him. "You are Sergeant Kinchloe?"

Kinch snapped to attention. "Sir."

"Please be seated. We have a long night ahead of us."


	2. report begins

**_Chapter 1_**

"Please state your full name for the record."

"Sergeant James S. Kinchloe, US Army Air Corps. Serial number 2041106."

"Due to the unusual nature of Sergeant Kinchloe's current assignment we will forgo details as to where he is stationed," the General explained. "Simply put, he is stationed somewhere in Germany, and he and his colleagues are working undercover as POWs and therefore have certain restrictions placed upon them."

"Should we even have that in the record?" one of the scientists asked. "Sounds a bit dicey. Should anyone come across this report - "

"Should anyone come across this report, we'll have more to worry about than the safety of one intelligence unit," the Admiral stated bluntly.

"I'm sure the Admiral meant no insult to you, Sergeant,," the General said. The Admiral made a small nod and waved of his hand in Kinch's direction, which was apparently all that he was going to get in the way of an apology. The General then turned and spoke to Kinch directly, "Any names or locations mentioned in the report will be changed later, but if you can keep specific details of that nature to a minimum Sergeant it would be appreciated. Also, my apologies, but for reasons concerning our own security, I won't be introducing myself or the other men present. Suffice it to say, we represent a high-level group brought together for investigating this incident and as such we expect your complete co-operation and the full disclosure of the events included in Colonel Hogan's report."

"Yes sir."

"Now, as to this report," the General said, ruffling it vaguely in Kinch's direction, "are you aware of what is in it?"

"Yes sir. I assisted Colonel Hogan in writing it."

"You realize that the contents are, shall we say, rather _remarkable?_"

"Yes sir."

"And you are fully prepared to back them up? You wouldn't say that this is a case of one man suffering from battle fatigue or delusions of any kind?"

"No sir. Not at all."

"Very well then. We've discussed matters and we believe it is best that you relate the events as they unfolded. Should any questions arise you will answer them to the best of your ability. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir." _Of course I understand_, Kinch thought angrily, and then tried to suppress that feeling. As unflappable as he usually was, having five powerful men grilling him in an isolated room and questioning his sanity was a little nerve-wracking. He realized, that while technically they were all on the same side, they cared nothing about him personally. If they determined that he knew too much and wanted him, or his friends, out of the way because of it… _Well it would happen pretty damned easily, wouldn't it? _he told himself. _And letting your nerves crowd out your wits will only make it easier._

"Proceed Sergeant. Start at the beginning."

_The beginning_, Kinch reflected, _now there's a good question. _"Well sir, I suppose it began last October. The thirteenth. Corporal Newkirk and Corporal Lebeau, were out delivering various items from our last supply drop from London to various Underground units, but the rest of us were all in camp."

"Including this, uh…Sergeant Carter," one of the scientists asked, after rifling through his copy of the Colonel's report.

"Yes sir. Sergeant Carter was present. Everyone was in the barracks except for Newkirk and Lebeau."

"What were you doing that night?"

"We were listening to Colonel Hogan describe our camp Kommandant's trip into town for Octoberfest." _And having one hell of a good laugh, _Kinch recalled.

--96--

_They'd had a run of good luck recently. All their missions had gone off without a hitch, all of their escaping prisoners had gotten safely back to England. Even Klink had been in a good mood; no doubt due to the lack of visits from fat generals and strident Gestapo majors. The Colonel had tried at first to keep them from getting too cocky, too complacent, but even he had started to relax. That night they were all sitting around in the barracks, drinking contraband liquor, and listening to him as he regaled them with tales of Klink's merry-making mishaps and how, thanks to one disastrous event with a vat of ale, a table full of cakes and a photographer from a cheap Berlin newspaper, there were now at least fifteen Hammelburg matrons gunning for their hapless Kommandant. Most of the men had been laughing so hard they were crying. Newkirk and Lebeau are going to be sorry they missed this, Kinch remembered thinking._

--96--

"We were relaxing," Kinch went on, "Laughing and just sitting around. It's not something we usually have a whole lot of time for. Sergeant Olsen had just asked the Colonel to tell us how our head guard had managed to accidentally tear the skirt off one of the barmaids. The Colonel was willing, but first he sent Carter down into the tunnels to fetch some..uh..refreshments."

"You were drinking?" the fussy looking scientist asked.

"Yes sir," Kinch admitted.

"Why wasn't this in the report?" he demanded.

"Perhaps the Colonel didn't feel it was that important."

"Sergeant, not only do I find this of dubious wisdom for a group of men working undercover in the constant presence of the enemy - "

"Don't be such a damn stickler," the Admiral interrupted. "Men in combat situations need to unwind sometimes."

"But it also puts your testimony into serious question!" the scientist continued, not deigning to notice the Admiral. "How can we accept as proof the report of a man who may have been intoxicated at the time?" The scientist frowned at him as if Kinch had personally dragged him away from his nice, cozy college campus and into danger to listen to the story of a man who was probably suffering from nothing more than an alcoholic's delusions.

Kinch sighed. He didn't need this prissy, pinch-faced man's doubt and hostility. "Gentlemen, with all due respect, I am not here to _prove_ anything."

The General raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me Sergeant?"

"Sir, I'm here simply to report what happened to me. What it all means, well, quite frankly I don't know. As far as I'm concerned that's for other people to figure out. I think that if you don't believe it, we could all be in a hell of a lot of trouble, but all that I can do is tell you what I saw. Whether or not you accept it is something I can't do anything about. But _testimony? _You make it sound like we're all on trial, and if we are I'd appreciate being told."

"No Sergeant, you're not on trial," the General assured him.

"Then sir, I don't want to be accused of dragging you all out on some wild goose chase. I wasn't drunk, I'm not insane, and I know what I saw. We reported everything as it happened and you're the ones who asked me to come here."

"If this report is false, then dragging us out on a wild goose chase is _exactly_ what you've done! And don't say you didn't ask us - you knew there would have to be some sort of response to a story like this!" the strident scientist broke in.

"Gentlemen," the other scientist said, "perhaps if we let the Sergeant finish - or indeed _start _- his story, we might find ourselves out of here before daybreak." Then the tall, lanky man flashed Kinch a genuine smile and leaned forward, saying, "Please continue Sergeant. I for one would very much like to hear your story."

"Yes sir, thank you. As I said, the Colonel had sent Carter down into the tunnels. I decided to follow. I figured he could use some help carrying the bottles, and I wanted to get a book that I'd been reading and had left in the radio room."

"So you both went down into the tunnels together," the General questioned.

"Yes sir. We went to the room where we keep a supply of comforts that we give to the escaping prisoners that pass through. The alcohol we keep in a locked cupboard and we dole it out pretty carefully."

"And why is that?" the shorter scientist broke in smugly. Kinch started thinking of him as _"Doctor Snide"_.

Kinch grimaced. "Because it isn't very wise to send out drunken men who know all of our secrets," he admitted.

"I would think though, that young men who've just dashed through enemy territory might need something bracing to calm them down. Wouldn't you agree, Doctor?" the taller scientist asked very politely. In his head, Kinch nicknamed him Dr. Tall for the want of anything better, and felt resentful that he wasn't even being told their names when they got to all about him.

"Lord Almighty! Will you two let the man talk?" the Admiral shouted.

"Anyway," Kinch continued after shooting a quick glance at all three men to see if they were going to say something else, "Carter and I had grabbed a few bottles and were climbing back up the tunnel entrance when I remembered my book. Once Carter was up I passed my bottles to him and told him I was going to the radio room."

--96--

"_Hurry up Kinch, or you'll miss the story!" _

"_Tell the Colonel not to wait on me. I'm sure Newkirk and Lebeau will want to hear it when they get back and I'll catch it then."_

"_You sure? It sounds like a good one!"_

"_Yeah, go ahead. I want to check the radio as well, the signal was coming in a bit weak this morning."_

"_Okay Kinch."_

--96-_-_

"Then I watched him close the tunnel entrance and I turned around to go to the radio room."

"And then what happened?" the tall scientist asked.

"And standing there in front of me, in a German uniform and soaking wet, was Sergeant Andrew Carter."


	3. october

**_Chapter 2_**

_Kinch would never find the words to adequately describe what he had felt at that moment. There would never be any words that fit. No words that made him say, "Yes, that's what I meant! That's what it was like exactly!"_

_For a moment, there hadn't even been surprise. He had seen Carter close the tunnel entrance and now he was seeing Carter directly in front of him. He knew that there was something wrong with this; the sight of Carter was so normal and yet what he was seeing so extraordinary, that for half a second he couldn't reconcile the two ideas in his head. Then he involuntarily took a step back as his brain made the connection. For a man who had always assumed that he had already seen most of the things that the world could dish out at him, he had been shocked absolutely speechless. His mind recoiled, trying to reject what it was seeing. He stood there stupidly, eyes darting from the man in front of him to the tunnel entrance, barely aware that the man in front of him was shouting at him._

--96--

"Obviously an impostor," Dr. Snide broke in dismissively.

"What?" Kinch asked.

"I said that it was obviously an impostor," the man repeated.

"No."

"Is it such an impossibility Sergeant?" the General asked. "From what I've read in Hogan's reports, you've made use of look-alikes yourselves. You once got a scientist out of your camp by disguising him as your head guard; another time you trapped a traitor by passing off a British Group Captain as the man in question," _Who? Oh right - Crittendon, Kinch remembered._ "And I believe that even you yourself impersonated an African prince."

"That's true sir, but I can't believe it in this case."

"Why not?"

"For one thing, why? If he was looking for information, he would have been up above, blending in, ingratiating himself. If he was in the tunnels, well then he already had enough information on us to call in the Gestapo. Besides, if you're going to use a double, then it only makes sense to get rid of the original first. How was he going to pass himself off as Carter when we still had one up top?"

"Perhaps the man in the tunnels was Sergeant Carter. Perhaps he had been replaced at an earlier time and had just escaped."

"Then he would have been racing up to the barracks to let us know. But he wasn't doing that."

"What was he doing?"

"He was yelling at me - demanding to know the date."

"The date?"

"Perhaps not the most puzzling question considering the theory we've brought these men here to discuss," the tall scientist suggested dryly. Kinch glanced at him, surprised. He would swear the man was having the time of his life.

"Yes, of course," the General conceded and then went on, "Could he have been a German who happened to stumble on to your operation, and his looking like Sergeant Carter merely a coincidence?"

"No, I don't think so. If that were the case he would have been more surprised at the tunnels, and he would have taken care of me right away so that I couldn't blow the whistle while he called for reinforcements. Carter, and it was Carter - I'll swear to that with my life - didn't even so much as glance at the tunnels. He didn't have to, he knew they were there, he knew his way around them - at that moment they weren't important to him in any way."

"How are you so sure that this was Sergeant Carter?" the General asked.

"Sir, I've lived with the man for over two years. That may not seem like a lot, but you have to remember the cramped quarters in which we live. Not only is our day to day life limited by our confinement to the prison camp, but we also share the same barracks, eat at the same table, play cards with the same group of people. In all of the cases where we used doubles, the people we were trying to deceive had little or no contact with the original person beforehand. And if they did, we got them to work with us. So I can't believe that we could be taken in by a look-alike for Carter, not after the way we've lived for the last couple of years, and not after all of the strange and dangerous things that we've been through together," Kinch insisted.

"You realized all of this in a few seconds? At a time when you had to have been very shocked by this strange appearance?"

"Yes sir. I think half the reason I was so surprised was that I knew almost instantly that it was Sergeant Carter that was standing in front of me. An impostor would have been surprising of course, but I don't think I would have been quite as …stunned, if some part of me had not realized it was Carter and instantly understood how impossible that was."

"And the man who went up to the barracks? You are equally as sure that that was Sergeant Carter as well?"

"Yes sir."

"But what if it wasn't? When you were walking with him and saw him go up and passed him the bottles of liquor, you were hardly considering that he might not be who he said he was. You would simply have taken it for granted, and not put him under any scrutiny."

"Sir, I - in fact all of us so _we_ - had been sitting with him all evening. Even if the switch had been somehow done that afternoon, someone would have noticed something. Even the best actor in the world couldn't have pulled that off. I think we would have sensed it, if nothing else."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, this is all speculation! This man can give no evidence as to why one of the men he saw couldn't have been an impostor," Dr. Snide complained. "We can only take his word for it that he knows Sergeant Carter well enough to _intuitively _sense that he was who he seemed to be."

The General quickly held his hand up before anyone else could interrupt. "While we do have to remain sceptical, and take everything into consideration, let's not debate this point. How well you can know someone else borders on philosophy, and I doubt that there is any evidence that Sergeant Kinchloe could give that would prove his point conclusively - "

"And if we get to debating it we'll be here for the rest of the damn war!" the Admiral finished.

The General shot his colleague a look and then gestured for Kinch to continue. "You were saying that Sergeant Carter was demanding to know the date."

"Yes sir. I was - well I was a little too stunned for a moment to make out what he was saying - the first thing I noticed that really sunk in was that his gloves and overcoat were wet. I remember wondering why, because I knew that it hadn't been raining outside, yet he wasn't wet enough to have fallen in water or anything. But then he rushed up and grabbed me by the arms. He started shaking me, nearly screaming. He wanted to know what day it was. He kept begging me to tell him the date."

--96--

_Carter was panicked, breathless, shaking Kinch so hard that had he been a smaller man his teeth would have been rattling. "Please, please, Kinch tell me what day it is!" Over and over again, not just begging, but crying._

_Some part of his brain finally stammered it out. Carter's eyes widened with horror and he froze._

"_Kinch, Newkirk and Lebeau - where are they? Are they here?" Carter demanded._

"_What?" he asked, still confused, "No, they're - " but Carter had already let go of him and was tearing through the tunnel to the emergency exit. The look that Kinch saw on his face ripped him out of his stupor and he took off after Carter, but it was the sound of Carter's hitching, frantic breathing that filled him with dread. He had no idea of what was going on, but he had never, ever seen his friend run so fast._

_Or heard such heart-breaking desperation in his voice._

--96--

"He got away from me before I could take him topside, and he was running so quickly that if I had gone to tell the Colonel what was happening he would have been long gone. All I could do was run after him, so I did."

--96--

_In the tunnels Kinch yelled at Carter to stop, but once outside he couldn't. "Forget Little Deer Who Runs Swift and Sure Through Forest," Kinch thought, "Carter is running like a damn demon!" Kinch was in good shape, but he was soon panting with exertion, and he was having trouble watching out for the searchlight and patrols while still trying to keep the younger man in sight. Carter wasn't paying any attention at all to the noise and commotion he was making as he wove through the trees westward. Kinch could only pray that luck was with them and he vowed to kick Carter's butt for being so sloppy when he got a hold of him. But even as he thought it, he knew it was a hollow threat; it was just his mind trying to make believe that everything was normal. As he followed Carter on his agonized dash through the woods, he knew with more and more certainty that something was disastrously wrong._

--96--

"He was running west, towards the old road to Heidelheim, though I didn't know that right away. It was a miracle that I could follow him at all. He started going up a large hill on this side of the village of Schmeckhausen. The old Heidelheim road cuts into the slope about halfway up on the other side. The slope on this side isn't so steep, but the hill is heavily wooded. I lost sight of him for a bit, but I could hear him scrambling up towards the top. I don't know how he did it; when I reached the top there were spots in front of my eyes and I had to lean against a tree and catch my breath. I was about to start off again when I saw the lights of a truck coming down the road."

"At the time I didn't know if Carter saw it. I was up higher after all; I had the better view. But I remember thinking that even if he did, he probably couldn't stop himself in time. Like I said, the slope was steeper on that side. He was running down it full bore, and even though he was still on his feet, he was out of control, almost falling more than running."

--96--

_Kinch could only watch, horrified, as Carter, arms flailing, ran out into the road in front of the truck. His lungs, already burning painfully, seized in his chest as he realized what was about to happen. He had never been so completely sure of anything: he was going to watch his friend be killed right in front of his eyes. Carter was going to fall in front of that truck._

_But he didn't. He tripped on a stone or some loose gravel and he stumbled, nearly falling, but well on the left side of the road, out of the path of the truck. It slowed him enough to allow him to gain his footing. In the oncoming headlights, Kinch thought that for a second he could see Carter's body relax with sudden relief. Then he saw Carter start, and it was as if he realized that avoiding the truck was exactly the thing that he hadn't wanted to do, because he raised his hands and jumped right in front of its path._

--96--

"The truck hit him. It had slowed to nearly a stop, and Carter did try to jump off the road at the last second, but the truck clipped him and knocked him over the side. The hill continues to slope down on that side of the road, down towards the Schmeckhausen river. The river runs parallel to the road and then curves round and crosses it about thirty yards from where the truck was stopped. There's a bridge there, one of the few in the area that we've never blown up. Which is fairly ironic considering what happened next."

"I was about to go down, hoping that Carter wasn't badly hurt and had managed to stop himself from falling all the way down the embankment by grabbing onto a branch or something. I didn't want to think about him falling in the river - all Carter knows about swimming is from a thirty second demonstration of the dog paddle Newkirk once gave him just before the Colonel threw him into a well after a codebook. However, the truck had stopped. I watched two men in German uniforms get out and start looking around in a shocked, disorganized sort of way. They were about to start down the slope, obviously to look for the man they had hit, when all of a sudden there was a sound from the bridge. Sort of a smaller FOOMPH and then a larger, shattering burst as the bridge blew, followed by a splintering, grinding sound as the far end disintegrated and collapsed into the water. It must have been a bomb, but it wasn't one of ours, and I didn't know of any other group who planned to take out that bridge. It just wasn't that important."

"The two men below froze at the sound, and I realized that they would have been on the bridge at that moment. Even if the explosion hadn't gotten them, their truck would've fallen into the river and it's a pretty big drop. That is, if they hadn't stopped when they hit Carter."

"I put two and two together then, and edged my way down the hill. Slowly. If they weren't who I thought they were, I wasn't going to fall at the feet of two Krauts if I could help it. It was Newkirk and Lebeau you see. I managed to get close enough to hear their voices - Lebeau sounded pretty desperate about something and Newkirk was urging him to get back in the truck. Before I could join them though, I saw the headlights of another truck coming and so I ducked behind a tree."

"A Lieutenant and a Corporal got out of the truck's cab and came over to Newkirk to ask what had happened. Newkirk explained about the bridge and the explosion. I was worried that there was a patrol in the back of that truck and that they'd start combing the woods for saboteurs, but there seemed to be only the two of them. Lebeau said something about hitting a man and how he had fallen down the slope, so the Lieutenant went with them for a quick look while the Corporal was ordered to stay and watch the trucks. Within a minute or two they were back - the Lieutenant kept checking his watch as if they were late for something - and Newkirk and Lebeau were ordered to get into their truck. The Lieutenant then ordered his Corporal to radio headquarters and request a patrol to investigate. After that he waved Newkirk and Lebeau to turn around and go back. He should have questioned them more, and he also should have had someone stand guard until the patrol came, but I wasn't going to complain. I didn't know how close a patrol might be, but once he and the Corporal got into their truck and left I decided that that gave me at least a few minutes to look for Carter."

"Dangerous," the Admiral said. "If you were taken as a saboteur it might have lead back to your operation."

"So might have an injured Carter. Whatever fake I.D. he had might have passed a quick glance, but one phone call to the unit he was supposedly assigned to would have told them he wasn't who it said he was."

"Perhaps, but a Negro in Germany could only logically be hiding in one place. Sergeant Carter's capture might not have necessarily lead back to your camp," Dr. Snide argued.

"No, it might only have gotten him executed!"

"What's done is done," the General said.

"Not if all of this turns out to be true," the tall scientist remarked with a wry grin. He was rewarded with several sharp glares, all of which he met with smiling equanimity.

"Go on Sergeant," the General ordered.

Kinch's smile at Dr. Tall's remark quickly faded as he remembered his anxious search for Carter on the wooded slope of the Old Heidelheim road.

--96--

_He had no light with him. Once both the trucks had left, all he had to see by was the slim light of the half moon. He dashed across the road to the point where he thought Carter had been hit and stumbled down the slope, slipping on pine needles and the first of Autumn's fallen leaves. Crouching so that his head was below the level of the road, he peered into the darkness trying to spot any sign that he could. Taking a chance that there were no other Germans about, he hissed through the night air, "Carter? Carter, can you hear me?"_

_No answer._

_He called a bit louder_, _"Carter - tell me where you are buddy. Move or make a noise if you can't talk."_

_Worried__when nothing but stillness met his ears, he cursed under his breath. He moved forward, stalking through the brush, eyes scanning both straight ahead and down to the tree line roughly ten feet below him. Working his way back and forth from the bridge to where the truck stopped, he swept the area as best he could, hoping that maybe he'd come upon Carter, unconscious but alive. After he reached the trees he even wove his way into the clump of the woods a bit, trying to spot his friend further down, but it was no good. Reluctantly, he decided that he wasn't going to find Carter this way. Haunted by the idea that he might have missed Carter by only a few feet, he hesitated for a few minutes, but then turned to make his way back to camp. If he was going to find his friend, he was going to need help._

--96--

"I couldn't find him," Kinch admitted, his thoughts far away, reliving the worry and desperation that had come over him at the thought of leaving Carter behind. "I had to get back to camp though, to tell them what had happened. But when I got back - "

"You found the other Carter," Dr. Tall stated.

"Yes. I swear, I had forgotten all about him. When I came up out of the tunnel and saw him sleeping there on his bunk - hell, I just couldn't figure it out! I think I was still standing there when Schultz came in for roll call."

"Then what happened?" Dr. Tall asked.

Kinch was taken aback for a moment, suddenly unsure of how to go on. "That's a bit hard to explain. "

"What do you mean?" the General asked.

"Well, the problem is sir, I have two separate memories of that day."

"Start with the clearer one," the tall scientist suggested.

Kinch considered the matter. "I remember them winching the truck out of the river," he said.


	4. the first day after

**_Chapter 3_**

_They had been there. Him and Hogan and Carter. The Colonel had convinced Schultz to look the other way at morning roll call by threatening the guard that if he reported Newkirk and Lebeau missing, he would also have to report that they had gotten out on his watch. It gave them a reprieve, allowing them to search for their friends before the woods around the camp were crawling with Krauts. After contacting the Underground and hearing that Newkirk and Lebeau had made all of their scheduled supply drops the night before, they borrowed a truck from the motor pool and worked on retracing the two men's intended route from their last drop back to camp. They had been driving slow, looking for clues and asking questions from every contact who might be able to help. Now they had only an hour or so before evening roll call, when they would have to be back. Two men missing might escape Klink's notice for a half a day, but five men? One of whom was the camp's senior officer? Even the Bald Eagle would spot that much of a depletion in ranks._

_Right then though, Hogan and Carter were "escorting" a prisoner to Stalag 13 via the old road to Heidelheim, not far away from Schmeckhausen. Hours of no leads were weighing down on them and the tension was growing when Hogan pulled the truck over to the side. Peering out the front they saw the traffic jammed up ahead of them on what usually was a deserted road. Kinch glanced at his CO and saw a sense of foreboding on his face._

_Carter, untouched by any such realization though, jumped out of the back, and ran past Hogan in the driver's seat before they could do anything to stop him._

"_No Car- " Hogan yelled, then slammed his mouth shut before he shouted out an American name in front of dozens of Germans. __"Damn it! What in the name of Hell is he thinking?"_

_Kinch looked behind him. Carter had run off leaving his "prisoner" behind unguarded, something definitely out of character for a proper German soldier. Carter's impulsive, Kinch thought to himself, but after over two years of working with the Colonel even he wouldn't make a mistake like that. Turning back, Kinch watched him dashing up the road, weaving in and out of the gathered bystanders. __It's not just curiosity, Kinch realized - it's panic. A feeling of premonition dropped down like a cold, wet stone in Kinch's stomach._

"_Sir, pull your gun on me," he said, "and take me out. Whatever's up ahead, I don't think Andrew should be alone when he sees it."_

--96--

"There must have been about fifty people there. Some soldiers, but some civilians too - the usual rubberneckers gawking at an accident. I got a few curious stares, but most turned back to the show in front of them when they saw the Colonel's pistol pointed _so reassuringly_ at my back." Kinch found it hard to keep a touch of bitterness out of his voice at that. "Everyone else had their eyes glued to the winch and crane."

"We managed to catch up to Carter, who had nearly made to the edge of bank near the bridge. The Colonel pulled him back, and even shook him by the elbow to make Carter look at him. He started to reprimand him about his duty as a "proper soldier" but something in Carter's face made him stop I guess. I don't know. The Colonel was keeping his voice low; even though he was speaking in German he still didn't want to draw too much attention to us. I could see him getting ready to order Carter to take his "prisoner" back to the truck, but then he changed his mind. Sighing, he pushed Carter back towards me and told him to keep me there, though he really meant it the other way round. Then the Colonel started to walk towards the rescue crew operating the winch. I was reaching out, trying to get a hold of Carter and pull him back behind me so that it would look like I was still under guard, and that's when I saw the Colonel suddenly freeze."

--96--

_Two sets of eyes immediately locked onto Robert Hogan's face, and saw it pale as that awful crane let out a grinding screech and the back end of a truck crested the edge of the cliff._

"_Get back now!" Colonel Hogan ordered them, but they were just as frozen as he was. The three of them stood there, unable to look away, and Kinch found himself mouthing a prayer. It wasn't until the truck was hanging in the air and the German rescue crew started to swing the crane over to the left so that they could lower the truck to the ground, that any of them were able to move. Carter broke forward, but Hogan got in front of him and Kinch grabbed hold of his coat at the same moment and yanked him back. Then Hogan, still staring over his shoulder, was trying to shove both of them back, pushing them away so that they wouldn't have to see. But it too late._

--96--

"There was a body in the front seat. It was lying against the windshield as the truck was hanging there, but then it slumped back as the truck was levelled down to the ground. I didn't see the face; I'm not sure if the Colonel or Carter did or not. I hope not. But we all recognized the truck. Why there was only one body I don't know, but I don't remember feeling any hope that the other man - I figured that it was Lebeau, I remember thinking that the body in the truck was probably Newkirk's judging by the size - had survived."

"I can't say I remember the trip back to camp. I do remember the Colonel breaking the news to the rest of the barracks. There was some discussion about whether to tell the rest of the camp; we were going to have to pass off Newkirk and Lebeau as having escaped, and that would be easier if the rest of the men didn't know everything. They'd know something was wrong of course - everyone knew the orders we were under - but as long as they didn't know for sure, we thought that they might be able to act normally enough to at least fool the Germans."

"That was the story…" Kinch paused, he could still remember the numbness that had overtaken him as they had discussed what to do, "that was the story we were going to have to tell the Kommandant you see."

After that, the Colonel radioed London himself and told them what happened. London wanted us to stay if we could, but we didn't know what was going to happen when the truck was finally traced back to camp. Colonel Hogan was divided I think; part of him wanted us all out and safely away - he didn't want to lose anyone else - but he wanted to stay and fight. I don't know what precisely he thought he was going to do all by himself - even he couldn't keep Klink's no escape record going if he was the only man in camp. So, in the end, we all had to go or we all had to stay. And our decision was the biggest damn mistake we ever made."


	5. the second first day

**_Chapter 4_**

"So you say the truck being pulled out of the river is your clearest memory of October 14th?" Dr. Snide demanded.

"At this moment yes," Kinch admitted wearily.

Before Dr. Snide could gloat or snap at Kinch to explain his answer, Dr. Tall broke in, "But you do remember another version of that day?"

"Somewhat. Part of me remembers it as being just a day like any other. Except for trying to figure out what had happened the night before, there was nothing remarkable about it. Though I did notice Lebeau giving Carter some funny looks."

"Did you inform your CO as to the events of the previous night?" the General asked.

"No sir, I didn't."

"Why not?" the General demanded with disapproval. "Presumably a man who could pass for one of his own would be something that he should know about - no matter what the explanation."

"I can't really say sir." The General was right of course, and Kinch knew it. He had spent so much of the last two months wondering why he hadn't. Had he been afraid of raising everyone's suspicions towards Carter? Or had he simply chickened out because he didn't know where to begin, and because he didn't want people to think he was crazy?

"Can you tell us anything else about that day?" Dr. Tall asked.

"Not really. Like I said, Lebeau would give Carter a strange look now and then - "

"Why do you think that was?"

"I figured since Carter had been pretty close to the right hand side of the road when the truck hit him, that Lebeau being on the passenger side would have gotten a better look at him. Plus, Newkirk would have busy trying to swerve."

"Speaking of Corporals Newkirk and Lebeau, did they have any…let us say _alternate_ memories?"

Kinch tried to think back. "I don't think so. But they did seem a bit down the next morning. Not like men who had cheated death."

"Sometimes reaction and the after affects of adrenalin can cause a minor depression," Dr. Snide suggested and Kinch was surprised. It hadn't been said with much sympathy, but it was the first remark the man hadn't sneered.

"So you don't think that they remembered the accident? That they remembered their own deaths?" Dr. Tall asked. Kinch could sense from the man's tone that he was trying to be considerate, but it was still a painful question.

"Not that I know of."

"What about the rest of the men? Did you notice anything that gave you reason to think that they realized things weren't quite normal? Sergeant Carter in particular."

"Not at first. It was a normal morning. We went outside for roll call and then came back in for breakfast. After that we started doing chores or whatever. Newkirk laid down to rest for a bit. A few of the men offered to help clean up so that Lebeau could take it easy, but he said he was fine. I think he wanted something to do; he was a bit distracted. Everyone else…Well, everyone else was a little more quiet than usual, now that I think about it. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it was like we were waiting for something." _Waiting for news. Waiting for them to come back. _Kinch realized now.

"Carter was the same as always. He was on his bunk looking at some magazine I think. But then he's always the last to worry. I think it was the Colonel who was the one acting the most noticeably different. He kept drumming his fingers on the table - distracting some of the guys from their card game - and every few minutes he would get up and pace around, as if he needed to be doing something."

"Then what happened?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Well, we all seemed to get a bit more agitated as the day went on. I could feel it myself - a feeling of anxiousness is the best way I can describe it. Carter started feeling it as well. After awhile, he become even more antsy than the Colonel. Carter's pretty easy-going in a lot of ways, but he can get high-strung too. He started jumping around and pacing himself, to the point where he was getting under everyone's feet and the Colonel ordered him outside. But nothing actually _happened_."

Dr. Tall leaned forward"Let me ask you Sergeant, when this happened, when Colonel Hogan ordered Sergeant Carter away, what time of day was it?"

"I'm not sure, late in the afternoon I suppose."

"Would you say that it was round about the same time that the three of you discovered what had happened to your friends in the other version of events? In fact, your growing anxiety throughout the day might correspond with your growing worry as you searched for your friends in that history."

Kinch was stunned; he had never considered that. He had noticed that in the months after there were times when he would be stricken with inexplicable moments of worry or sadness, but his memories of _that_ life, the one where Newkirk and Lebeau hadn't been in an accident, were hard to sort out. From what he could understand of all this, _that_ life should be the most recent one, as well as being the _real_ one. Shouldn't it have simply replaced the other memories? Shouldn't they have at least faded a little as they slipped more and more into the past? Once again he was struck by how strange, and how damned unfair it was that the _other_ life was the one that was so clear.

"Sergeant?" Dr. Tall's voice pulled him back to the present.

"Yes, I guess it was roughly the same time of day."

"Were there possibly any other times during the time after the accident that you think might match a similar time in the other series of events?"

"Yes, I believe so." Kinch furrowed his brow, trying to remember. "I'm sorry if I can't be more clear, but I'm having trouble separating the two versions. It's hard to remember what I felt without considering the things I know now."

"I think I understand, but please try your best."

"A few days after that I remembered feeling very worried about the Colonel. I'd go outside and find myself watching the front gates as if that's where the trouble would be coming from, even though I knew that the Colonel was in the barracks reading or in the Kommandant's office playing chess. He does that to stroke the Bald Eagle's ego when he wants to get something out of him, " Kinch explained when Dr. Snide seemed about to open his mouth. "It went away - mostly - after a few days. Then there was a time roughly two or three weeks later when I felt very depressed about…well, everything really, but then it had something to do with Lebeau."

"Were you the only one experiencing these things?"

"No. Some of the others were more moody than usual as well, though it wasn't really that noticeable. I caught some of them out watching the front gate the same day I did, but apart from that it was nothing more than them getting nervous every so often or the occasional blue funk. I think I saw it a bit more with the Colonel, though that might just be because I know him better. For a few days after the night on the bridge, the night where Carter did stop the truck, the Colonel kept acting strangely. He was more restless and troubled than I had ever seen him before. But then a day or so after the day where I kept going out to watch the gate, his mood just cleared up. As if whatever it was, he had come out the other side. Lebeau and Newkirk were the same way. A day or two after the 13th they were back to normal. It was Carter's behaviour that kept getting worse."

"In what way?"

"He was worried for a start. All of the time, I mean. He didn't seem to get any relief from it, and that's just not Carter. There are times when we can't get him to worry enough to keep himself quiet even when we're on a mission. He was nervous and jumpy - Newkirk scared the life out of him more than once just by coming up behind him. And Newkirk wasn't _trying_ to scare him either. Now that I think about it, I think even Lebeau and the Colonel startled him a couple of times as well. I don't know, it's almost like he - "

"Like he had forgotten they were still there?" Dr. Tall asked, already suspecting the answer.

"Yes."

"What else?"

"Well, he become very withdrawn; he spent more and more time down in the tunnels like he was trying to avoid us all. And that's another thing Carter wouldn't do. Out of all of us, he's the one that enjoys being around people the most. At first we tried to ignore it, putting it down to the season - winter is a hard time in a POW camp - but we were getting worried."

"And this is getting ridiculous!" Dr. Snide finally protested. "We're listening to nothing but hearsay evidence on what Sergeant Carter _might_ have been _feeling_."

"If you don't mind, Doctor, I am trying to establish corroborating points between the testimony of all the witnesses, as well as gathering evidence in hopes of determining the nature of what exactly happened to these men. The Sergeant's report suggests an intriguing possibility - "

"One that I'm sure we'd all appreciate Doctor," the General interrupted, "and which at any other time I would give you leave to explore. But these men cannot be kept here indefinitely if they are to continue their operation. I think we'd best get back to the main part of the story."

Dr. Tall was disappointed, but willingly conceded the point. "I'm sorry Sergeant Kinchloe. I'm sure the last two days have been very trying and you'd like to get this over with as quickly as possible. Perhaps we could return to the original timeline." Realizing that they would be moving onto a subject that would be distressing for the man in front of him, his voice softened, "I believe that the truck was traced back to your Stalag and that the body inside of it was identified as Corporal Newkirk's. Maybe you could begin there."

Kinch took a deep breath. "We all knew the truck had been found when Schultz came to get the Colonel."

--96--

_The men were up and dressed and wondering what was delaying roll call; the guards were over fifteen minutes late in getting everyone outside. They used the periscope in the water barrel to check the compound, but didn't see anything unusual. They then tried the coffee pot in Hogan's quarters, but whatever was going on wasn't happening in Klink's office. By the time Schultz finally came, they were all back in the main room, waiting, their apprehension growing. Carter, who had been sitting at the table, stood and instinctively moved closer to his two remaining friends. Whether he needed support or was trying to give it, Kinch couldn't tell. Maybe it was a little of both, but Kinch felt a sudden need of his own to have him and the Colonel close by where he could see them and so was glad._

_All Schultz said was, "The Kommandant needs to see you Colonel Hogan," and they knew. They had never heard the big man's voice sound like that before. Serious, sad, regretful, even ashamed. Hogan gave them a look, as if to say, "It's bad, but we'll get through it." It was meant to comfort, but it didn't really help. Then he turned to accompany Schultz without a word of protest._

_The body of Corporal Peter Newkirk was laid out in the infirmary and formally identified by his commanding officer. For the camp's records , it was also examined by Sergeant Wilson as representing the Allied medical profession, who stated that he saw no signs of unnecessary violence and that the cause of death was probably the initial trauma of the accident. This examination was Klink's idea and one which his senior prisoner of war officer fiercely protested in order to spare his medic the necessity of seeing a friend in such a state. However, at this stage of the war the Kommandant felt that it might come in handy to have clear evidence that all of his prisoners had been treated fairly, though needless to say, he did not share this bit of reasoning with his superiors._

_The Germans investigating the accident had traced the truck back to Stalag 13. At first they had assumed that the dead man was one of the camp's guards, but when they talked to the Kommandant and learned that no guards were missing, but that two prisoners were, it wasn't hard to figure out what had happened. There had been nothing suspicious in the truck to suggest that it was anything other than an escape gone wrong, and so the number of prisoners who had so far successfully escaped from Stalag 13 was brought down from two to one._

_And, if not for one man, it all would have ended there._


	6. the following weeks

**_Chapter 5_**

"The Gestapo came for the Colonel about three days after Newkirk's body was found."

"And this would have corresponded with your feelings of anxiety for Hogan - the day you were watching the gates?" Dr. Tall asked.

"Yes," Kinch replied. Dr. Tall did not gloat, or make any sign that he had just proven a point.

"On what evidence did they take Hogan?" the General asked.

Kinch's retort was a bitter, ugly sound. "Evidence? Same kind of evidence the Gestapo always has! Thugs holding guns. Hochstetter has always been after the Colonel and that day…Hell, that day he didn't even bother talking to Klink! Him and his goons just swarmed into the barracks, pulled their guns out and were driving out the gates with Colonel Hogan before Klink had barely dragged himself out of bed!"

"So your Kommandant did nothing?"

"Klink? Sir, Klink might be a half-decent man, but he's also a vain sycophant with all of the backbone of a jellyfish. You can't count on him to stand up to anyone. The best he could do was the same thing he always did when Hochstetter did something he didn't like - cry to General Burkhalter. The General has no particular feelings for Colonel Hogan, and when you get right down to it, he can't stand Klink, but he despises the Gestapo, and hates Hochstetter even worse. Not to mention that Stalag 13 is one of his camps. Whatever troubles the Kommandant has will eventually reflect on him. Besides, I think he's always thought of Colonel Hogan as his insurance - either as a gift to his superiors or as a bargaining chip with our side. He's more cunning that way than either Klink or Hochstetter. Don't get me wrong - Burkhalter's your typical Kraut bastard - but for whatever reasons, his stepping in as a barrier between us and the Gestapo has pulled our fat out of the fire more than few of times."

"But this time all it did was make things worse."

--96--

_They tore into camp a half an hour before roll call. In the grey light of early morning, two huge goons busted down the door to the barracks with such force that it flew off its hinges and went crashing into the stove, shocking the men awake and to their feet before they even knew where they were. The goons burst in and without even breaking stride one grabbed Carter - who was nearest simply because his bunk was closest to the door - and threw him out of the way, his head grazing a corner of the table before he hit the floor. The other pushed down Olsen - who was standing in the way to Hogan's office - and purposely stomped on his arm. Hogan rushed out just as Hochstetter tramped in. The two goons grabbed the Colonel's arms and wrenched them painfully back, keeping him from getting to the Major._

_Hochstetter was beyond gloating, beyond his usual raving and his litany of Gestapo threats. Before Hogan could get at word out, Hochstetter snapped his fingers and four other goons had pistols pointed directly at Kinch's head. Kinch could see Hogan immediately switching gears, about to say he'd comply as long as they left his men alone, but before he could one of the men who had taken hold of him let go, stepped back and swung the butt of his pistol at his head. Hogan dropped like a dead weight in the other one's arms._

_The four guns pointed at Kinch's head kept the rest of the men at bay as Hogan was dragged out and thrown in Hochstetter's car. Langensheidt, who was on duty, had woken Schultz and now the fat man was running across the compound in nothing but his long underwear and his uniform pants. Klink didn't even have that much on; as Hochstetter's car sped away and the four remaining goons backed out, got into their own vehicle and followed, Kinch staggered outside to see the Kommandant stumbling out of his own quarters in nothing but his nightshirt, trying to pull on one of his boots._

--96--

"Hochstetter was acting on his own you see. Burkhalter surrounded the camp with every available Luftwaffe man he could get his hands on, leaving us with no hopes of getting out to go after the Colonel. The perimeter was completely covered, and extra men were stationed inside the camp to prevent riots. The General also parked a radio detection van right in the middle of the compound, so we couldn't get in touch with any of our contacts, or get any message to London other than the one I had Baker get off right after the Colonel was taken."

"Hochstetter didn't have any evidence. He just wanted revenge." Kinch's voice grew soft, as if he was talking more to himself, voicing his thoughts out loud as he remembered, "I mean, he had to have known that doing something like that could end his career, maybe even get him executed if he couldn't get the Colonel to talk. But he must have not cared anymore. He must have hated the Colonel that much."

"It was hard to think of what Hochstetter had to be doing to him. The son of a bitch didn't want information; probably didn't even really want a confession. At least not an official one - no doubt he would have loved to have heard the Colonel finally give in and admit to everything. But he didn't need to be cautious anymore; he wouldn't be giving him a trial. He wouldn't even be bringing him back."

--96--

_Kinch looked at Klink standing there foolishly in his nightshirt, shaking his stupid, ineffectual, gutless fist at Hochstetter's receding party, and felt a sudden, poisonous explosion of hatred towards the man._

"_Damnit!" he seethed, breathing heavy and swearing under his breath. "Why couldn't you do something? Why couldn't you EVER stand up to him, you spineless, cowering, pathetic…" The rage rose through his chest like a boiling river and he started to get louder and louder; any second now he knew he'd be shouting, but he couldn't stop. "All of you! You're either twisted, heartless killers or simpering cowards. You've just let these bastards take over and done nothing to stop them!"_

"_Kinch!" Someone grabbed hold of his arm and a voice hissed fiercely in his ear, "for the love of God, shut the HELL up!" It was Baker. He rounded sharply, about to shout that he didn't care who heard him -_

_Then he saw the shocked faces of his friends. Carter, with one hand to his forehead and blood running down his face, staring at the front gate. Olsen absently rubbing one arm as he looked to Kinch. Foster gaping with an open mouth and Garlotti glancing around in as if he couldn't believe what he had just seen. The entire camp was outside now, looking wide-eyed and stunned._

_He walked over and gathered them together. "Baker, get everyone inside," he ordered, "and then get a message off to London and tell them to alert the Underground. And have someone monitoring Klink's office and his phone line. Olsen, go through the tunnels and tell the barracks chiefs I'll need to meet with them as soon as I'm done talking to Klink. Till then everyone stays put. Carter, get the tunnels wired to blow, just in case we have to get out quick."_

"_R -Right Kinch," Carter said, a bit too dazed to question him as to what they were going to do about Colonel Hogan._

_Kinch paused only long enough to put his uniform on, but they had less time than they knew. Burkhalter, who must have had a tip off, had the camp enclosed and sealed off within the hour. Kinch was shoved unceremoniously out of Klink's office and went back to find a guard - a real guard, brought by Burk halter - had been stationed inside every barracks. He couldn't even talk to the barracks chiefs. For over a week they endured this, worry for Colonel Hogan growing exponentially as each day took him further and further out of their reach. Each day was a day of anxious waiting, of knowing that the trail was growing colder, of feeling that every minute counted but was slipping through their fingers as they were kept trapped in camp, unable to even talk to each other._

_At the end of the week Burkhalter finally took the guards out of the barracks, but only to reinforce the perimeter. Freed from constant scrutiny, they were at last able to listen in on the out-going phone calls and learned two things: that Burkhalter had learned nothing from his moles in the Gestapo, and that he was determined that the Gestapo wasn't going to use this mess as an excuse to take over the camp. Kinch's heart sank as he heard this; it meant that the guards weren't going anywhere soon._

_But what happened next was still a shock - Klink was replaced. They were never told where he was sent, they were simply told one morning that he had already left for his new assignment. Kinch suspected that after an entire week around Klink, Burkhalter had finally snapped and sent him to the Russian front. Schultz was reassigned as well, but once the radio detection van finally left, they managed to learn from an outside contact that he had suffered a heart attack and was now recuperating at a hospital in Hammelburg. Burkhalter stayed until the new Kommandant arrived, and then returned to Berlin._

_The prisoner's only piece of good luck was that their new Kommandant - an Ernst Bernhardt - turned out to be a decent and honourable soldier. However, while he was not cruel and treated the prisoners with a distant sort of respect, he was also competent, smarter and far more efficient than Klink had ever been. The extra guards stayed, and for a long time getting out of camp was an impossibility._

--96--

"So we had to sit tight," Kinch said grimly. Even now, it was still hard for him to think about that time - the frustrated emptiness he had felt, the oppressive sense of responsibility and fear, the sheer exhaustion in the almost daily arguments he had had with the others about what they should do. "There was nothing else we could do until something changed. When we finally made contact with London again they told us to shut the operation down as soon as we could safely get out." Kinch had been furious at that. _Now they want us to get out? Now that the Colonel's gone? Now that we're completely surrounded and have no hopes in hell of even getting five feet?_ he had ranted at the time.

"Anyway, the weeks went on as we all tried to adjust to the new routine of the camp. We decided to get as much ready as we could for when we evacuated. Since we might not be able to give London much notice we figured that they wouldn't be able to send many planes or subs in time, so the vast majority of the camp was going to have to go overland. We had to get everyone out - reprisals against anyone left behind would be brutal - but we didn't have clothes and papers ready for every man in camp. So that's what we worked on. We also tried our best to learn the new guard rotations and schedules as best we could, but Bernhardt was unpredictable. Nothing much happened for a couple of months, except for…except for when they found Lebeau."

--96--

_It had been nearly three weeks since the accident had turned their lives upside down. Kinch had been busy that day. Between organizing schedules for the escape work, consulting with different men about various plans for whatever situation might present itself and talking down a group of hotheads in Barracks 11 who wanted to bust out in a blazing glory to go after Hogan right there and then, he didn't get back to his own barracks until it was nearly time for evening roll call._

_He strode into the barracks to see the men sitting at the table - under guard. Ten heads lifted and ten scared and guilty faces met his._

"_What? What is it?" He looked around quickly and felt a stab of panic. "What's going on?" No one could speak. "Where's Carter?" he demanded more loudly._

"_They took him." Olsen said finally._

"_Who?" Kinch shouted._

"_Langenscheidt and the new Kommandant's adjutant - Hoffman," Baker answered._

"_WHAT?"_

"_They came for you. We didn't know where you were; we were afraid you were down in the tunnels so we tried to stall. We told them all different answers, claiming that's what you'd said to each of us, to make it seem like we didn't really know anything - "_

"_Which we didn't," Foster broke in. The other men glared at him._

"_We thought they'd run around looking for you, but then Langenscheidt said Carter would do just as well."_

"_And they took him," Kinch said. He sank down onto the bench. He felt sick. Rubbing his forehead, he asked, "Did they say where? Or what for?"_

"_No."_

"_Damnit. Damnit damnit damnit," Kinch repeated under his breath, shaking his head as if he could deny what was happening. He got up automatically to go to the Kommandant's office, only to be forcefully blocked by Corporal Hessel, one of the new guards._

_It came down to waiting._

_An hour later they were surprised when the door opened and it wasn't a guard who walked in, but Wilson. The medic held up his hands to forestall their anxious questions. Then he reached his arm just outside of the door and gently helped a shaken and red-eyed Carter inside._

"_He's alright. They didn't hurt him," Wilson said right away._

"_Take him into the Colonel's office Mike."_

_Carter looked up at him reproachfully, as if Kinch had just betrayed the Colonel's memory somehow, but Wilson didn't question it, and with a sympathetic hand on young man's back, lead him into the private quarters and made him sit down on the lower bunk. Then he came back out to talk to Kinch. "He's pretty shaken up so I've given him a sedative."_

"_What happened?"_

_Wilson sighed. "The Germans found a body in the Schmeckhausen river. They took Carter to identify it."_

"_Was it…?" Kinch asked. Wilson nodded sadly._

_The number of successful escapes went back down to zero._


	7. early december

**_Chapter 6 _**

"They had found Corporal Lebeau?" the General asked.

"Yes."

"You remember this event clearly?"

"Yes."

"Yet you understand that he, as well as Corporal Newkirk and Colonel Hogan, is somewhere in this facility right now? You understand the full impact of what you're telling us? "

"Yes sir."

"Continue."

"Well, things just went on like I told you. We worked on getting ready for our escape and kept in contact with London, passing on what little information we could gather while stuck in camp. It wasn't until December that anything changed."

"December, December…" the General said, scanning Colonel Hogan's report. "Ah yes, that was when you state that Kommandant Bernhardt was recalled to Berlin."

"Yes sir."

"And how did this change things?"

"Kommandant Bernhardt left his adjutant in charge. Hoffman was smart enough, still dangerous to us, but he was a stickler for schedules. Suddenly the guards became a lot more predictable."

"So this gave you an opening to start sending men out again."

"Yes sir. There was a space of a few minutes each night around ten p.m, and then again around two a.m., when the area around the entrance to our emergency tunnel wasn't covered."

"And this was when Sergeant Carter came across Herr Stahlecker?"

"Yes."

"What day was this?"

"December 11th."

"How did Sergeant Carter first encounter Stahlecker?"

"He was in the café at the railroad station."

"You know that for certain? Or did he just tell you?"

"He told me."

"What was he doing at the railroad station?"

"He says that I sent him out to get information on the patrol routes and to find out the railroad schedules. Because of the extra security that had been in place for the last two months or so, our knowledge of the area was out of date and I wanted new intelligence before I started planning the evacuation of the camp."

Dr. Snide jumped on Kinch's statement. "He says? You don't remember?"

Very reluctantly, Kinch admitted that he didn't. He didn't know why that would be, other than the memories of both set of events had recently begun to blur together. And though it was extremely inconvenient at the moment, he was glad. It gave him hope that the original events would eventually fade. _Finally I might get rid of the sight of that damn truck being pulled out of the river!_

"So perhaps you're being swayed by nothing more than the power of suggestion."

Kinch sighed. "Yes, it's entirely possible. Carter has such a smooth and hypnotic voice after all."

Dr. Tall made a soft snort of amusement, then tried to cover it by clearing his throat. "Is this familiar to you at all? Is this in any way the reality that you remember?" he asked.

_Was it? _Kinch asked himself. "I have no real memory of it no, but it seems logical."

"That's irrelevant," Dr. Snide said. "If you are unable to corroborate Sergeant Carter's story, then all we have is one madman convincing four others that three of them are supposed to be dead."

Kinch was about to protest, but Dr. Tall spoke first. "With all due respect Doctor, we also have Sergeant Kinchloe's testimony as to what he saw last October."

"Fine. Two madmen then. And some crackpot scheme that they've devised between them."

"To what possible end?" Dr. Tall asked.

"Perhaps to shirk their duty and have themselves released from their current assignment," Dr. Snide answered, as if the answer was obvious. Kinch was beginning to truly hate the sound of the man's voice.

"Gentlemen, please!" the General interrupted. "Both Sergeant Kinchloe and Sergeant Carter have outstanding records, and have never given any indication of either cowardice or dishonesty." He turned to Kinch, "On the other hand Sergeant, all options must be considered. I make no accusations, but do you have any evidence to back up Sergeant Carter's story?"

Furious, Kinch took a few seconds to get a hold of himself under the guise of considering the question. "No sir, no physical evidence other than the photos of Stahlecker's notes, which Colonel Hogan has already given you."

"And who's to say that these are anything more than the ravings of another madman? They're not proof that what you say actually happened," Dr. Snide argued.

"A lot of madmen in your world," Dr. Tall remarked.

"Considering this damn war, I'd say that there's a lot of madmen in everyone's world," the Admiral broke in. "We cannot ignore the fact that this _is_ the simpler explanation. No matter how much we may want to," he said, addressing the last part pointedly towards Dr. Tall. "Now, make no mistake," he went on, raising his hand to stave off protest, " I'm not saying that Sergeant Carter or Sergeant Kinchloe are up to anything dishonest, but Sergeant Carter strikes me as being fairly impressionable. He may have come across these notes, which as the Doctor says, may be little more than the ravings of an eccentric. Sergeant Carter read these notes, and not being an expert, believed them. Sergeant Kinchloe has already mentioned that Sergeant Carter hasn't been behaving like himself for the last two months. Perhaps depressed, or suffering from battle fatigue, he then, for whatever reason, concocted this story and began to believe it."

Dr. Snide looked ready to argue that a man in a POW camp couldn't suffer from battle fatigue - Kinch swore to himself that if he did he would break the man's nose - but then the man's expression changed and he quickly shut his mouth . _Probably realized that denying battle fatigue would mean Carter's story was more likely to be true,_ Kinch thought.

"Sir," Kinch addressed himself to the General, "If I can say something?"

"Of course Sergeant."

"I've already told you that I'm not here to prove anything. But whatever you think of us, both Sergeant Carter and I have every intention of going right back to camp and returning to our duty. I've also said that I have no physical evidence. That's true. But I will tell you something - I may not remember everything about - what did you call it before? The other series of events? But I do remember most of it, and not only after Sergeant Carter told me. I remember them winching the truck out of the river. I remember how I felt seeing the lone body in the front. I remember Hochstetter taking the Colonel away. These things have been right in front of my eyes for nearly three months now. From right after that night in October. And if you don't believe Carter, then you're going to have to not believe me as well, because it's not just one man's story!"

Kinch looked at the men ranged up against him. Dr. Snide scoffed, but Dr. Tall was smiling. The Admiral raised one eyebrow as if re-considering Kinch. The General was unreadable, though not as much so as the man in the civilian suit. Despite his silence and lack of expression, Kinch had never forgotten his presence. He got the feeling that this was the man who was pulling the strings - in one way or another.

"So Sergeant Carter is at the café," the General continued, accepting Kinch's statement. "What made him follow Stahlecker?"

"To be honest sir, we can't seem to get him to go into it in any great detail. He told us he was sitting there, watching the guards and other soldiers come in and out, when the two men at the next table started talking loudly. He said that the one man - Stahlecker - 'sounded real worked up' and that he heard him say _'the Eldridge'_. Carter said that this made him sit up and take notice. Why I don't know, other than it isn't a very German sounding name.

"Excuse me Sergeant," the Admiral interrupted, "Did Sergeant Carter say how sure he was that the word Stahlecker said was _Eldridge?_"

"He didn't make a point of it no," Kinch answered, and saw a look pass between the General and the Admiral.

"Fine Sergeant, go on."

"Well, Carter said he listened some more and he heard the man ranting about 'missing a great opportunity'. According to Carter, the other man had seemed bored until this point, like someone who has heard the same hare-brained story from a neighbour a dozen times, but when Stahlecker said something about 'the Americans getting ahead' apparently the other man got nervous and shushed him. Carter said he tried to hear more, but couldn't. But I guess the line about us getting ahead intrigued him enough that he thought following Stahlecker might be a good idea."

Actually, it had been hearing the words 'changing the past, fixing the disasters we're in now' that had really caused Carter to listen to the two men's conversation and then follow Stahlecker. Carter, shame-faced and staring at his shoes, hadn't wanted them to know that he had risked everything on some crazy, grief-stricken pipe dream, and this little tidbit of information had only come out after he and the Colonel had demanded Carter tell the whole story for a fourth time.

"So Sergeant Carter followed Stahlecker to his house - then what?"

"He waited until he saw the man's lights go out and then he broke in."

"Security must have been very lax," Dr. Snide pointed out.

"This wasn't a Nazi project," Kinch explained rather sharply. But he had to admit the other man was right about one thing, Stahlecker was considered an eccentric. From what he had learned recently, other Nazi scientists had refused to become involved in his project because even they had dismissed him as lunatic. _Much like this one's doing to me now, _he thought bitterly.

"Did Sergeant Carter confront Stahlecker?" the General asked.

"No. According to Carter, he searched through the ground floor of the house until he found Stahlecker's study."

"And everything Sergeant Carter needed was just lying around I suppose," Dr. Snide commented sarcastically.

Kinch looked at Dr. Snide and wonderedhow anyone could constantly feel a need to be such a jackass. "No, Stahlecker's papers were locked in his desk. However, considering the work we've been involved in the last few years, a few locks don't present that much of a problem. Even if lock picking isn't Carter's forte, living with Peter Newkirk has at least made him good enough to open the drawers of a civilian's cheap department store desk. When he found the notebook, he thought it looked promising - "

"How would he know that? Especially in such a short time?" the General questioned.

"Well sir, I know Carter comes off looking like he's not exactly the sharpest pencil in the box, but don't let that fool you. He's got more in the way of scientific knowledge than the rest of us. Sure, it's mostly chemistry, but he's got enough knowledge of basic physics that he can usually tell you the direction and velocity of the blast. And he's got a fair bit of mechanical ability; it doesn't matter what the Colonel asks for in terms of size, materials, triggers or timers, Carter can put it together. He might not have fully comprehended Stahlecker's notes, but I bet he understood enough to recognize that the notebook was important, rather than just making a lucky guess."

"So this is when he took the photos of Stahlecker's notes?"

"Yes."

"Why did he make photos? Why not simply take the notebook?"

"I don't think he wanted Stahlecker to get suspicious."

"Maybe he knew even then what he was going to do," Dr. Tall suggested. Kinch frowned at him without knowing why.

"Did he discover anything else at this time? Did he search the rest of the house?" the General asked.

"No sir. Time was running short; he only had the one chance before morning roll call to get back into the emergency tunnel."

"When he returned did he make any mention of this incident to you?"

"Not at that time, no. He only told us about Stahlecker afterwards."

"After the events of the 23rd."

"Yes sir."

"What was he doing before that time?"

"He had developed the photos and was studying them. I suppose he was trying to make a decision."

"About what?"

"About whether to tell me about Stahlecker and have the photos sent on to London."

"And why didn't he?"

"Maybe he thought that I would think he was crazy. Or maybe that London would think we were both crazy."

"Or maybe that you'd stop him, isn't that right Sergeant?" Dr. Tall asked.

Kinch didn't answer. Ever since he had read Stahlecker's notes for himself, he had been uncomfortable. On one hand, once he had managed to believe something this incredible, he had to admit that they had been given a miracle. Thanks to Carter, Newkirk and Lebeau hadn't been killed in an explosion. Colonel Hogan hadn't been taken away by Hochstetter. The operation was going great guns under the blind eye of Klink and the easily bribable eye of Schultz. He should be grateful, and he was.

However - though he couldn't admit it - deep down he was also angry. When he had read Stalecker's notes on his failed attempts he had become furious with how foolhardy Carter had been. _How could you get in that machine Carter? Knowing that the man never had never had a successful experiment? Did you even read that part? Or did you just read enough to figure out how to turn the damn thing on and then jump in? Dr. Tall is right, you knew right from the start what you were going to do. How could you do it? How could you risk the operation on some insane scientist's idea of a damn time machine? How could you risk my life? The lives of all the rest of the prisoners? How could you risk your life when I had already lost everyone else?_

The trouble was, how could he say anything? It had worked. There was nothing to worry about. How could he argue about the unbelievably stupid gamble Carter had taken when the results were so fantastic? If Carter had never done what he did, Kinch wouldn't have three of his best friends back.

So how in the name of God could he possibly be angry?

"So Sergeant Carter spent that time deciding what to do and making his plan," the General said.

"Yes sir."

"How did he get rid of Stahlecker?"

"He didn't. He watched Stahlecker's house for several nights until the 23rd, when he saw him leaving for a Christmas party."

"So Sergeant Carter saw Stahlecker leaving his home. He broke in and then presumably searched the house until he came across the German's invention."

"Yes sir."

"Then what?"

"He used it."


	8. the twenty third

**_Chapter 7 _**

For a minute or so his questioners were quiet and Kinch could see them gathering up their thoughts in preparation. The air was blue with smoke and the light had become even more glaring to his tired eyes, just like it always did in the tunnels during the early hours of the morning. Yawning, he looked at his watch. It was after two a.m. and he could see that they thought they'd finally come to the heart of the matter. He watched them rifling through their notes, conferring with each other, taking sips of water, and he realized that they were probably going to be very disappointed.

"Now, Sergeant Kinchloe, what can you tell us about that?" the General asked.

"About what? About what Carter did or about the machine itself?" If the General hadn't been in the room, he probably would have leaned back, despite his uncomfortable seat. They had been brought here by Morrison, their contact in the Abwehr, for "questioning in Berlin" well over thirty-six hours ago and had been put through the wringer from practically the first second they had arrived. Quite frankly, after physicals, psychological tests and now late night interrogations, he didn't feel like playing mind reader. He didn't even know where he was for God's sake.

"Start with the machine."

"I never saw it. I have no idea what it looks like, let alone how it's supposed to work. Carter could tell you more than I ever possibly could."

"Despite Sergeant Carter's vaunted _scientific knowledge _and _mechanical ability_," Dr. Snide complained, "his answers were scatter-brained and dim-witted at best - "

"That's it!" Kinch said. Lunging forward, his metal chair clattering against the floor as it was knocked over backwards, he grabbed the carping little weasel by the front of his suit coat, managing to yank the other man out of his chair even from across the table.

"SERGEANT KINCHLOE SIT DOWN!" the General bellowed.

It took several moments and all of Kinch's willpower to slowly loosen his hold on the scientist. He shoved the man back into his chair, hard enough to make it slide back a few inches and even rock back on its legs.

"Sergeant…" the General warned.

Kinch righted his own chair and sat down once more.

"Now, as to the machine - " the General started again.

"What?" Dr. Snide cried out indignantly. "I expect an apol - "

"You don't expect a damn thing!" the General snapped. Slowly he turned to glare at each man in turn. "Now, it's been a long night, and these men will have to be returned to their camp before their Kommandant gets suspicious enough to contact his superiors. SO I SUGGEST," he said emphatically, finishing his reprimand by staring down Dr. Snide, "that we do without disruptive insults and childish bickering!" Then he turned to Kinch and gestured for him to continue. "The machine, Sergeant."

"I'm sorry sir, but I really can't tell you much of anything."

"Perhaps Sergeant Kinchloe," Dr. Tall said, "you could tell us what Sergeant Carter told you."

"What good would that do?"

"Well, Sergeant Carter was understandably nervous during his interview. Perhaps, during the intervening weeks between the night in question and now, he might have mentioned something to you that slipped his mind when we spoke with him."

"You make it sound like you've already interrogated him."

"Yes, his _interview_," Dr. Tall replied, stressing the word, "was yesterday afternoon. We've split the interviews of the rest of you between the entire group to save time, but everyone wanted to hear his story."

"Then what's going on in that other room?" Kinch demanded. "What are you doing to him?"

"Please, please, Sergeant. It's nothing to worry about," Dr. Tall said. "It's simply a few more tests and a second interview."

Kinch regarded him warily, wondering whether or not to believe him.

"Truly Sergeant Kinchloe," Dr. Tall went on, "there's no cause for alarm. We only want to gather information and to corroborate the facts as best we can."

"Corroborate the facts? I see - you're interviewing us separately in hopes of seeing whether our stories match, is that it? What will that prove? We've had three weeks to get our stories to match, if that's what we planned on doing."

"We're not looking for evidence of collusion Sergeant. It's just that all of your memories of the events have a few holes in them. It makes piecing together what happened very difficult. By interviewing all of you there's a greater chance that more facts will come to light; one or two of you might remember some little thing that the others didn't, something that might provide us with a key to this whole situation."

Kinch sighed. He supposed that the explanation made sense. Perhaps exhaustion and dealing with Dr. Snide was making him paranoid. "Well, I still can't tell you much. None of us ever saw the machine except Carter, and when we found him that night he really wasn't in much condition to talk about what happened."

"How did you find him?"

"Carter missed the two a.m. window when the guards weren't by the tunnel entrance. Even under Hoffman that normally that would have been if for the night - we would have had to report him missing in the morning and hope that he could find a way back in during the day, or at least not get shot when the guards found him. But it was two days before Christmas and things were thankfully a little more lax. A lot of the guards had left on leave that afternoon and they were short-handed that night."

"So you risked going out to look for him?"

"Yes sir. Kommandant Bernhardt was due back on the 26th and like I said before, he kept things unpredictable. If we couldn't get Carter back before then we'd have no hope of getting out once Bernhardt returned. So I decided to go out."

"Alone?"

"No. Two other men went with me."

"Who were they Sergeant?" Dr. Tall asked, and Kinch sensed that somehow the man knew what was coming.

"It depends on what time of the night you're talking about," he answered.

--96--

_It had been Foster and Billet, he was sure of that. They had waited until nearly three, everyone silently waiting, praying to hear the bunk slide up and see Carter pop his head up with a sheepish smile. Once, Kinch reflected, there had been a time when we would have simply been nervous. A time when the Colonel would have been here making contingency plans, when Lebeau would have been here worrying with us, when Newkirk would have been telling us that he wasn't worried because Carter would be back any minute. Funny how Newkirk could turn into as much as an optimist as he always chided Carter for being, and always when poor Andrew wasn't around to see it, Kinch thought. But now none of them were here and the memory of how quickly a friend could be taken from them was seared onto the minds of every man in the barracks._

_With painstaking caution, they made their way out of the emergency tunnel entrance and through the woods towards Hammelburg. Kinch felt just as tense as he had the very first time he had ever snuck out of camp. They went down the routes Carter had been sent out to investigate, they questioned the contact he had been supposed to meet, Foster and Billet checked the Hauserhof and the Hofbrau. Nothing._

_They stood a small clearing in the woods just outside of town, where Kinch had waited while the other two had checked every bar and café and restaurant they could think of. It was four thirty. Kinch didn't know what to do next. Roll call was normally at five a.m, but for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day it had been extended to six. With a half an hour to get back to camp, that gave them another hour to look - but where? His mind was numb, he couldn't think. He stood there staring at the snow gathering on Foster's coat. It was a gentle but heavy fall, coming straight down. Suddenly he found that he couldn't take his eyes off the image of the snow melting on Foster's shoulders._

_Making his coat _**wet.**

_That night, back in October, it hadn't been raining, Kinch remembered, but Carter's coat had been wet. Wet the same way ours are now, he realized, mostly on the shoulders._

_He knew where Carter was._

--96--

"That's all it took for you to figure it out? Snow melting on your coats?" the General asked.

"That's all it took."

--96--

_It hadn't been conscious reasoning and it hadn't been intuition. He didn't know what to call it. Maybe it had been both. But remembering it afterwards, how the knowledge had clicked together so slickly and completely in his mind, was strange. He felt like something very large had fallen on him. He started running towards the old Heidelheim road. Foster and Billet followed, but quickly fell behind._

_There was a half moon that night, but with the snow reflecting its light he could see fairly well. He ran so fast that by the time he reached the bridge he couldn't stand and dropped to his knees, but that didn't stop him. Wheezing, panting, half crawling, half sliding, he thrashed his way down along the slope, eyes darting back and forth. There! A little off to his right, about ten feet down from where the tree line started, he could see it. A dark shape crumpled between the slope and the trunk of a large pine, nearly hidden by the lower branches. The trees shook and dropped thick clumps of snow as he plowed through them._

_It was darker in amongst the trees. Finally reaching the body, Kinch could tell it was Carter, but not how badly he might be injured. He took a frantic moment to fumble through his pockets for a flashlight, talking to Carter the whole time. Crouching down, he concentrated the light on his friend, making the woods around him seem even darker. With his free hand he tried to examine Carter for broken bones and other injuries the way Wilson had shown them. Finding nothing, he risked turning Carter over and started slapping him gently on the cheek in hopes of bringing him around. He heard the other two coming down the slope, but didn't look up because just then Carter started to moan._

"_Carter, can you hear me?"_

"_Kinch?" a voice answered weakly._

"_Yeah buddy, it's me." Focused on Carter, he didn't look up as he sensed the other two suddenly beside him._

"_How is he Kinch?"_

"_Is 'e alright?"_

_Kinch's head shot up with a crack - it was Colonel Hogan and Newkirk._


	9. christmas eve and after

**_Chapter 8_**

"How did you react to seeing Colonel Hogan and Corporal Newkirk again?" Dr. Tall asked.

"I was stunned." That was an understatement - their sudden presence had shocked him even more than Carter's appearance in the tunnels had back in October. Staring open-mouthed at his CO, it had taken him nearly a full minute to final stammer out a reply to the Colonel's question. The other two had shot him a puzzled glance, but they were too preoccupied with Carter to follow it further.

"Nothing more?"

"Like what?"

"At that moment was there any confusion in your mind about the two timelines? I suppose what I'm asking is if your shock at their reappearance was entirely because you knew for certain they were dead, or because you suddenly had two sets of memories to deal with."

Kinch considered this. "It's really hard to say at this point sir. I may have, but I really don't remember being able to think of anything at all at the time."

"In other words, it was a moment of pure reaction. I understand. What about later on?"

"What does this have to do with anything?" Dr. Snide broke in.

"It raises questions about the entire nature of time!" Dr. Tall explained. "The moment Sergeant Carter went back and saved his friends at the bridge, that should have eliminated the other timeline completely. By our current thinking, Sergeant Kinchloe and the others, and arguably even Sergeant Carter himself, should have no memories of it. So we have to ask ourselves: does changing the past erase previous events? Does it create a new timeline entirely? Or does it just alter things within a specific loop of time, leaving memories of those events in order to avoid paradoxes? For instance, if Sergeant Carter remembered Corporal Newkirk and Corporal Lebeau being right there in front of him day after day, and not their deaths, would he still have gotten in the machine? It all raises many intriguing questions - "

Kinch groaned inwardly. He didn't mind Dr. Tall, but he was more than ready for this to be over. Thankfully the General interrupted. "I'm sorry Doctor, but we only have so much time."

"With all due respect sir," Dr. Tall argued, "what else are we here for if not this? This is our best - and possibly only - opportunity to have these questions answered."

"I appreciate your position Doctor, but right now our primary concern is stopping the Germans from making use of this technology. We need to know how much they know about Stahlecker's work."

"And what about it's effects on human beings - may I ask about that? Or when we decide to replicate this little event for ourselves, are we just planning to have someone jump in while we wait and hope for the best?"

"Doctor!" the General reprimanded sharply, "You forget yourself."

"Is that a yes or a no?" the scientist asked. Kinch had to hand it to the man, he wasn't easily intimidated. When he received no reply, Dr. Tall turned and waved a hand towards Kinch, "Sergeant, if you would please describe Sergeant Carter's condition when you found him…"

"Well, physically he wasn't hurt too badly. There was nothing broken, and other than a wrenched knee, a few bad cuts and some pretty spectacular bruises, he was fine."

"What about his mental state?"

"He was a little dazed, even groggy."

"Was there evidence of any head injury?"

"Not that I - I mean not that we - could see." He had been in command when he had left camp that night, the men's safety _his_ responsibility. Suddenly having Colonel Hogan back in that role had been more of an adjustment than he thought it would be. One he was definitely glad to make, but still, even now, there were times when Kinch found it hard to remember that there was someone else around whose job it was to take charge.

"How did Sergeant Carter react to seeing Colonel Hogan and Corporal Newkirk there with you?"

"I don't think he was as surprised as I was. For the first minute or so, he was still just coming around. He had started saying something to me, about how his skin was tingling, but then he saw that it was the Colonel bending over him and he gasped, breaking right off in the middle of his sentence. Then he started grinning."

--96--

_Carter was trembling, and for a second there was the tiniest bit of uncertainty in his eyes, as if he was scared that what he was seeing might not be real, but then his face lit up like a string of Christmas lights. Kinch's flashlight still trained on him, the three men saw tears glisten in his eyes, and then - inexplicably to two of them at least - he began to laugh._

"_Carter, what is it? Are you alright?" Colonel Hogan asked._

_Carter was unable to speak and could only nod. Easing him away from away from the tree, they gently helped him sit up and saw that he was shivering hard now. Kinch took off his coat and wrapped it around the younger man, all the while still staring at his two friends himself._

"_Okay, what's going on?" the Colonel wanted to know. "Are you hurt Carter? Can you talk?"_

_At that question, three heads turned to regard their CO. "Blimey Colonel! Is this the first time you've ever met 'im?" Newkirk asked. Everyone started to laugh at that, Carter too. But then, just as quickly, tears were suddenly pouring helplessly down his cheeks._

_Colonel Hogan and Newkirk gaped at him, at a loss for this sudden display. It was Kinch who went to him, wrapping his arms around the weeping man. Carter flinched away at first - as upset as he was Kinch figured he was still a little embarrassed at the scene he was making - but in the end he couldn't deny himself the comfort his friend was offering._

"_It's alright Andrew," Kinch said. "I know. I know what it's been like."_

_Carter pulled away from Kinch to look at him. "Really?" he asked hesitantly, his puzzlement clear on his face. His teeth began to chatter. "I d - didn't th - think you would. I th - thought th - that if I did it, no one would remember."_

"_Bloody hell! Remember what?" Newkirk demanded._

_Kinch could tell that the Colonel wanted to know too, but Carter's eyelids were starting to droop and he was shaking even worse. Kinch was suddenly concerned that Carter might be going into shock._

"_Never mind that now Newkirk," the Colonel said, undoubtedly worrying about the same thing. "Let's get Carter up to the car and back to camp."_

"_The car?" Kinch asked. "What car?"_

_Kinch would later think that if he had suddenly flapped his arms and clucked like a chicken, he would have gotten the exact same look from his two newly living friends._

--96--

"So Sergeant Carter said nothing about the machine or his experience that night, I take it?" Dr. Tall asked.

"No sir. He was exhausted and dropped off to sleep nearly as soon as we got him into the car."

"Where _did_ the car come from?"

"Apparently we borrowed it from the motor pool."

"You borrowed a car from the motor pool and didn't remember doing it?" Dr. Snide questioned.

"Not at first - "

"That's because he didn't borrow the car at first," Dr. Tall explained. "He left camp on foot with these two men - what were their names?" he asked himself and as he looked over the notes he had been taking. "Ah yes, Foster and Billet. But when Sergeant Carter changed the events in October, he naturally changed every succeeding event as well."

"I suppose," Dr. Snide said. "If we accept all of this as factual, that is."

Kinch ignored him. "Yes, I suppose that's it. When I was in the car I remembered - I had gone out with the Colonel, Newkirk and Carter. We had sabotaged a fuel depot, but then Carter didn't meet us at the rendezvous point. We went looking for him everywhere we could think of, but I still can't remember what made us think of the bridge."

"At that time did you remember one set of events more strongly than the other?"

"No sir. I still remembered coming out with Foster and Billet, and that Newkirk, Lebeau and the Colonel were all supposed to be gone."

"That must have been very disturbing for you."

_You're not just whistling Dixie there, Doc_. The Colonel had demanded answers from him from the moment they were underway, but he had been unable to give him any. At that time, on the ride home, he still had no idea of what had happened. "Yes," he finally said to the scientist. "I'm sorry that I can't be any more clear." And he was, though it was more because he wanted to finally sort out this whole mess in his own mind, rather than to give these men what they wanted.

"I understand Sergeant," Dr. Tall said gently. Despite how desperate the man was for answers, he said this with respect and acceptance, and even compassion - for which Kinch was grateful. "Perhaps you could tell us what happened in the days afterwards," the scientist continued.

"Well, the next day was Christmas Eve. Carter was complaining of a bad headache, and more than a little stiff and sore from the accident, so the Colonel made him rest in his quarters while the other guys decorated the barracks. I still couldn't give the Colonel much in the way of answers, and what I could tell him, I didn't want to. So I went down into the tunnels to get my thoughts together. I walked around for a bit, then I found myself in Carter's lab. That's when I found the photos of Stahlecker's notes that Carter had made."

"Speaking of Stahlecker's notes," the Admiral questioned, "how much of them did you read?"

"All of them."

An imperceptible tension seemed to greet Kinch after this remark. "What did you think of them?" the General asked, and Kinch felt that there was more to this question than they wanted him to know.

"Well, I'm no physicist, but they didn't seem to make much sense to me. I'm sure a lot of it was over my head but it struck me as if Stahlecker didn't really know what he was talking about. His theories seemed like more of a jumble of thoughts than any sort of clear idea." For some reason, Dr. Tall smiled at this.

"What about the names he mentioned?" the Admiral questioned. This surprised Kinch; the Admiral had made a few comments but had mostly left the interrogating to the General and the two specialists. In fact, the only question he remembered the Admiral asking was about _'the Eldridge'_. The Admiral's demeanour was suddenly different as well, more circumspect and penetrating, less the bluff mariner. It was simply a matter of tone and a tightening of body language, but suddenly the entire panel seemed more alert. Alarm bells started going off in Kinch's head as he recalled something: there had also been something about _'the Eldridge' _in Stahlecker's notes.

"I recognized a few of the names," Kinch said. "Einstein and Tesla for instance. But other than that I can't say anything really sticks in my mind." What made him keep quiet about the _'Eldridge' _ he couldn't say, but it suddenly felt like the safer thing to do.

"I see. So you read these notes, and I assume Colonel Hogan did as well. Did anyone else? Besides Sergeant Carter, of course."

"No sir. Lebeau wasn't interested and Newkirk flat out refused."

"Speaking of which, how did Corporals Lebeau and Newkirk react once the story came out?" Dr. Tall wanted to know.

"Well, the Colonel and I had a hard enough time trying to sort through it ourselves at first. After I found the notes in Carter's lab and showed them to the Colonel, I told him about what had happened in October and all that I remembered about the last two months."

--96--

_Kinch could read his CO's expression as easily as a page from Dick and Jane. It said: You're a good man Kinch and I'm trying to keep an open mind, but I'm not buying this, so come on now, what really happened?_

_At least up until the point where Kinch started talking about the Germans finding the truck._

"_The truck," the Colonel repeated softly, his body instantly straightening up and his eyes growing serious. "We were there."_

"_Yes sir," Kinch said gently. "You and I and Carter. You didn't want us to see, but you couldn't do anything to stop it."_

_The Colonel's voice grew quiet. "We had to leave. I wanted to get Newkirk's body. I wanted to at least make sure his body got shipped home, for his family's sake, but I wasn't sure if the Germans would trace the truck back to camp. Or what would happen to us if they did. I hated to leave. But there was nothing we could do."_

"_No sir. You had to protect the rest of us, and that meant getting back to camp."_

"_What else happened?" Hogan asked. Kinch told him about Hochstetter coming for him._

"_Hochstetter."_

"_Do you remember that sir?"_

"_Yes." But he wouldn't say anything more than that. He got Kinch to tell him the rest and the only sound he made was to wince when he heard that Carter had been the one to identify Lebeau's body. When Kinch was done he asked the Colonel if they should tell Newkirk and Lebeau._

"_I don't want to," the Colonel said, "but at this point I don't see how we can avoid it. Newkirk already knows something strange is going on, and they both know that something happened to Carter last night. They're not going to let it go."_

"_What about everyone else?"_

"_No. But we will have to inform London."_

_Kinch understood the reasons behind the Colonel's decision - he shuddered to think of what the Germans could do with this information - but he instinctively didn't like it. He believed in democracy and in being patriotic, and he loved his country, but after a lifetime of segregation he didn't have quite the same faith as the others did that his government was out to do right by him. The government would see this as being far more important than any individual, and what did that mean for them? But before they wrote out their report for London, they brought Lebeau and Newkirk down to the radio room._

"_It was him!" a stunned Lebeau said, after Kinch had finished._

"_What?" Newkirk asked._

"_Carter. It WAS him that we hit with the truck. You made fun of me, you said it was probably just Hitler with his hair dyed blond, but I knew it was Carter," Lebeau explained._

"_Blimey Lebeau, you're not buying this load of rubbish are you?" Newkirk asked._

"_What are you saying Newkirk? That I'm making this up?" Kinch demanded._

"_Well what are you saying?" Newkirk snapped. "That I'm supposed to be dead? Do me a bloody favour! Do I look dead to you? Do I? Or is it more of a matter that I SHOULD be dead? I don't expect to live forever, but I damn well know that I 'aven't died!"_

"_No, you haven't died. Not now."_

"_And not before!" Newkirk shouted, his sheer fury surprising them all. "Sod that for a start! And I'm not about to stand 'ere and listen to you say that Lebeau and the Colonel and me are supposed to be dead right now! That we're only 'ere because Carter decided to swan about last night playing H.G. bloody Wells! Well, you listen to me mate - you can go and tell your flipping fairy tales to someone else!" And with that he turned and stormed away down the tunnels._

_Kinch hadn't considered of that. He'd been so focused on his own grief that he hadn't thought what it might be like for the others to hear that if life had gone on normally they should all be dead right now. He suddenly understood Newkirk's fierce denial._

_As to the notes, Newkirk wanted no part of them, and refused to read them. Kinch wanted him to in hopes that he might come around to believe, and that that might heal the relationship between him and his friends in the process. But the Colonel was unwilling to push him, saying that he would not force a man change his entire view of reality. Lebeau also refused to read them. Kinch suspected that, while Lebeau believed what Kinch was telling him, he was not comfortable with thinking about the situation any further. Both he and Colonel Hogan seemed to accept the idea a little more easily, but Kinch found that all three of them were awkward around him and especially around Carter. It all made for a very strained Christmas._

_As to that, Carter himself didn't want to talk about it anymore either. It bothered him of course that Newkirk didn't want to be around him, and that the Colonel and Lebeau were very quiet towards him, but Kinch believed that the main reason was that Carter didn't want to relive the grief he had felt for the last two months. His friends had been dead, but now they weren't, and he didn't want think about anything else. Kinch could see that Carter was more than willing to ignore his own accomplishment, not only for the sake of harmony, but out of simple gratitude._

_But Colonel Hogan needed to know. For the first four days after Christmas, he forced Carter to come into his office and re-hash the story over and over again. Carter wouldn't talk about the actual experience, claiming not to remember, and, other than how to start it and what it was supposed to do, Carter could only describe the machine itself in the same vague "bunch of switches and dials" way that he described nearly every machine. Already touchy over the subject of his friend's deaths, he always came out of these sessions flustered and frustrated. Both the Colonel and Kinch felt bad over upsetting him in such a way, but they couldn't bring themselves to stop until they saw that they had pushed Carter past the point where he could give them anything more useful. They realized that while he might have understood how the machine worked, he might never find the words to make them able to comprehend it, and so going on was pointless._

--96--

"So that's it," the General said.

"I'm afraid so, sir. Colonel Hogan and I wrote up what we could and arranged for a courier to take it to London, but I can't really tell you anything more than what was in our report. None of us ever really understood it all; we just had to learn to accept that it had happened."

"Yes, I suppose so. Well Sergeant, we thank you for your time. You are dismissed."

And like that, it was over.

* * *

_Author's note: Actually, it's not. There's one or two chapters left. Anyway, just wanted to thank everyone for all the great reviews. I wasn't too sure how people would take to this - Sci Fi isn't a genre a most people expect in Hogan's Heroes. And kudos to ML Miller Breedlove for making the "Philadelphia Experiment" connection! For different reasons, I ended up cutting out all but one clue. (The "Eldridge")_

_Speaking of clues, I also cut out a lot of them in regards to the identity of "Doctor Tall", but even with them, the source is perhaps a bit obscure and might only be familiar to fans of time travel stories. So nobody beat themselves up about it. If anything, you'll probably be ticked off at my making it a mystery in the first place, but I couldn't reveal his identity without revealing everyone else's. As to Dr. Snide, he is mine, though I think the name I picked out for him (which you'll learn in the next chapter) influenced his personality, and now he unwittingly resembles another character on another famous military sitcom. _


	10. a warning and a consolation

_Disclaimer: No luck with the Super 7 on Friday, so I still don't own Hogan's Heroes. (Probably should have actually bought a ticket - I always forget that.) However, since "Dr. Tall" will be introduced in this chapter, I will take this opportunity to add that he rightly belongs to the late Jack Finney. (If I did own him, "Time and Again" would have been made into a movie by now!) Fans of Jack Finney will not only know who Dr. Tall is now, but will also recognize the speech he gives Kinch. Even though I used different examples, it is almost the exact same speech he gives Simon Morley. (I figure that other people, like me, use the same arguments and even the same words if they're talking about something they have definite views on, and are trying to make the same point again and again.)_

_**Chapter 9**_

"Cup of coffee?"

Kinch looked up from his seat in the small waiting room. The tall scientist from the interview room stood there, holding two cups of coffee, brandishing one towards him. Kinch took it and said thank you.

The other man sat down on the chair across from him and then stuck out his hand. "Dr. E. E. Danziger."

Kinch shook his hand. "I thought that I wasn't supposed to know who any of you are."

Danziger snorted and waved a large hand dismissively. "Personally, I've always believed that the easiest way to keep something under wraps is not to make it conspicuous by going around and stamping it "Top Secret". Besides, introducing myself seemed only polite." He leaned back, giving every impression that he was simply there to enjoy a casual cup of coffee.

"Do you know if we're going back to our camp soon?" Kinch asked. Morrison, aka Hans Teppel of the Abwehr, might have the clout with Klink to take them away for a few days of "questioning", but things could get hot for all of them if Klink worked up enough guts to pass his suspicions along to General Burkhalter.

"I believe so. The others are finished with Hogan, Newkirk and Lebeau. Their interviews were naturally a lot shorter than yours and Sergeant Carter's, and I don't think we have any more physicals or psychological tests scheduled."

"Thank heavens for that," Kinch said with feeling. "What exactly was all that for anyway?"

Danziger smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry if we were a bit overzealous, but you have to understand, here we have a man who has purportedly travelled through time, another who is - in some fashion - aware of a different reality, and three men who are supposed to be dead. You can perhaps see how anxious we might be for any evidence that could lead to an explanation." Kinch frowned, but then reluctantly nodded, admitting to himself that the man had a point.

"However," Danziger continued, "I wanted to talk to you alone before you left." Instinctively, Kinch found himself growing wary.

"Why?" he asked.

Danziger did not come closer - still giving the appearance that they were just speaking casually - but his voice grew much softer. "I may have made an error in judgement - one that may affect you and especially your friend Carter. This morning, after interviewing the Sergeant, I discussed a theory of mine with Dr. Burns - "

"Dr. Burns?"

"Sorry, of course. Dr. Burns was the other scientist in the interview room," Danziger explained. Kinch was surprised at Danziger's revealing another person's name to him. _That's not the smartest move you might have made Doctor. _ _Either you've got a real grudge against the military, or you're far more naïve about how the Army works than I would have taken you for, _Kinch thought, but said nothing. "In any case Sergeant," Danziger continued, "I spoke of this theory with Dr. Burns in the same way I would with any colleague, as an idea to explore, not thinking that he would take it to anyone before we had proof. But now I have reason to believe that this is exactly what he has done."

"How does this theory affect Carter?"

"My theory is that the machine doesn't work."

"What? After all this - "

"Please Sergeant, you misunderstand me. I _do_ believe that Sergeant Carter went back in time. I just don't believe that he used the machine to do it."

Kinch didn't know what to say. He had no idea of what the man was talking about.

"Sergeant Kinchloe, I've read Stahlecker's notes front to back and back to front, and probably sideways as well, and I think that Herr Stahlecker is exactly what he appears to be - a half mad eccentric with two dozen scattered theories that he's attempting to mash together into one viable idea. You were right when you said that Stahlecker's notes are nothing but a complete jumble. As far as I can see, there is no way that that machine could have worked."

"But then how did Carter do what he did?"

"It's my theory that Sergeant Carter _thought_ himself back to the past."

_Oh please God_, Kinch thought, _nearly two days without sleep is not the time I would have asked to be dealing with a lunatic. _"Thought himself back into the past…uh huh," Kinch said. He knew it was rude but he couldn't keep the scepticism out of his voice.

But Danziger didn't seem put out. "Tell me something Sergeant - what day is it?"

"Friday. I think, anyway - I haven't seen daylight for about forty-eight hours."

"What's the date?" Danziger asked, leaning back and lighting a cigarette.

"If it's Friday, I guess it's the twelth."

"What month?"

"Look, what is this? What does this have to do with Carter?" Kinch asked as he put down his empty coffee cup.

Danziger smiled. "Hear me out, I will get to it eventually."

Kinch told himself that it was stupid to trust Danziger. _He's playing the sympathetic ear, the man with the friendly warning, in hopes I've got something more to tell and I'll spill it to him. _ But he couldn't help believing the man. It wasn't just that he was amiable and charismatic - Kinch had been around Robert Hogan long enough to know that traits like that were very handy tools in getting what you wanted from people - no, it was the look he had had in his eyes in the intereview room, Kinch realized. Danziger had _believed_ him. He'd more than believed him, he'd been thrilled. For all that he appeared to be a more composed, logical, down to earth, man of the world than Carter would probably ever be, the light of possibility had shone of of his eyes the same way they did out of Andrew's when he was talking about his explosives.

And suddenly that possibility was catching. "It's January," Kinch answered, intrigued now.

"And the year?"

"1945."

"Yes, yes it is. But how do you know?"

"What do you mean how do I know? Because last year was 1944."

"Forget the calendar, Sergeant. You know how you know? Because of who is president right now. Because you've got a box down in those tunnels of yours that has a switch on it and when you flick it on voices come out of the air. Because you were brought here in a truck, not a horse and buggy. Because women's hemlines are around the knee instead of around the ankle. Because of millions and millions of other reasons, millions of little indications tying you to this century, this decade, this year, even this month and day. Not only out there, but in here," he said, tapping his head. "In here is the important part. Here's where we know what things make it now, and what things don't. We know that, as Americans, we don't have to pay taxes to England anymore. That the Gibson Girl look isn't the latest thing, and hasn't been for a good while. That dinosaurs no longer roam the Earth and Jack the Ripper isn't the threat he once was. Imaginge now, that all of these things are like threads, millions of threads tying us to this place and time."

"So?" Kinch asked.

"So what if you could free yourself from them? Completely forget the present and focus so tightly on the past that you find yourself there?"

"Then you'd be crazy. You might think that you were there, but you really wouldn't be."

"How do you know Sergeant?" Danziger asked calmly.

Kinch thought for a moment. "Well, what about the Amish? They don't use trucks or radios. Amish women don't dress in short skirts. We say they're living in the past, but they aren't really. You can drive to Pennsylvania and see them."

"True. But they only ignore the present, they aren't completely unaware of it."

"Still…" Kinch protested. He didn't know how to argue with the man. "So then how did Carter forget two months of it?" he asked, trying a different approach. "And if that's all it took, don't you think other people would have tried? I mean no offence, but don't you think that in that case the past be filled with people trying to stop the deaths of their friends and loved ones? What could possibly have allowed Carter to think himself back in time when no one else has ever been able to?"

"As to no one else, I'm not so sure about that. There are some signs out there, some bits of evidence that I've gathered over the past few years that says it _has_ happened - though I think the chances of it working for a specific individual are extremely high. God knows, it might only work for one in a hundred million. But in Sergeant Carter's case, I think the answer is quite simple." Danziger raised four fingers, "One, he believed in Stahlecker's notes _and_ he was in what he firmly believed was a working time machine, which left his mind not only open to the possibility of time travel, but full of conviction that it would actually work. Two, he had a purpose that he desperately wanted to achieve, lending him even more focus and drive to get to that night. Three, his grief over his friends indelibly seared the details of the night they died into his memory. And four, that same grief meant that he was probably doing everything possible to forget the two months in between that night and the night he used the machine."

Kinch shook his head. "I'm sorry Doctor, but I still can't believe this. Using a machine to go back into the past is hard enough to accept. There are days when I don't believe _that_, even though I know that it happened. But the idea that Carter did nothing more than _think_ himself back…no, I'm sorry, that's completely ridiculous."

Danziger leaned close and lowered his voice even further. "Sergeant, as you yourself said to us - I'm not here to prove anything. I'll admit to you right now that I have absolutely no way of knowing for certain what really happened. This is just a theory of mine, and one that you don't have to believe. But what I'm trying to do is to tell you that your friend may be in danger because of it."

"Why?"

"Because as long as the military thinks it's possible to make Stahlecker's machine work, then they don't need Sergeant Carter, and probably would be more than happy to keep him out of it and use their own people. But if they can't get it to work…"

"Then they'll want him."

"Yes."

--96--

After Danziger had left, Kinch leaned over and turned off the lamp on the table. He realized that sitting alone in the dark was a little odd, but somehow looking at his thoughts in the bleak artificial light made them worse.

He remembered the last time he had sat in the dark - the night Carter had been brought back after identifying Lebeau's body. After talking briefly to the others, he had come into the Colonel's quarters and had turned off the light because it had been too hard to look at all of the Colonel's things: his jacket, his cap, the coffeepot they had all stood around so many times. Darkness was easier.

He had sat down beside Carter on the bottom bunk. Kinch had thought that if Carter was going to break down, he could at least spare him the embarrassment of doing it in front of everyone, and if Carter needed to talk it out, then he could spare the others all of the painful details.

But Carter hadn't said anything, hadn't done anything, had only sat there looking broken and defeated - a look that Kinch had never expected to see on him. Kinch had felt helpless, wondering what to say. In the end, he too had remained silent, unable to offer his friend any consolation because he knew none would help. Day after day he had gone on, because that was what the others needed him to do, but inside he felt gutted, hollowed out by grief, not just for his friends, but for what they had had together. It was like everything they had done together these past few years had been blasted to dust along with that bridge; simply obliterated and then wiped clean. It was hard to believe that there had ever been a point to it all, not when it could all be erased by a stupid accident. He couldn't have imagined it - that the Germans would never find out and yet it would still all be taken from them.

Eventually Kinch had felt Carter's head loll against his shoulder as the sedative Wilson had given him had kicked in. Kinch had eased him down onto the bunk, and then moved to the chair at the Colonel's table so that he could be close by. He had spent the rest of the night there, staring into the quiet night and thinking about how quickly things could change.

"We didn't pull it off," he thought, unaware that he had spoken out loud.

"What?" a voice said, and suddenly the main light switch by the door flipped on and he was back in the waiting room.

Kinch jumped in surprise, blinking against the light. "Jeez, Colonel! Give a fella some warning next time."

"Sorry Kinch. But what are you doing here sitting in the dark?" the Colonel asked, walking up to stand in front of his radioman.

"Nothing sir. Just thinking."

"I see," Hogan nodded, his eyes never leaving Kinch's. It was a simple tone, one that would have had the other three already stammering out an explanation, but Kinch didn't fall for it quite as easily. He said nothing and after a few moments Hogan sighed and sat down next to him. Kinch smiled to himself as he saw his Colonel realize that, in this case, he was actually going to have to ask.

"So what's wrong?"

"Nothing really sir." Kinch thought about how to explain it. "I guess I was just thinking about how _this_ time we didn't pull it off."

"What do you mean?"

"We always pulled it off before. Always. Sure, sometimes it was at the last minute, but still, we always managed to find a way. But this time… I don't know. I was thinking about the night I sat with Carter in your quarters, after he had had to identify Lebeau, and I remember thinking about how different it was."

"Different?"

Kinch squeezed the bridge of his nose, suddenly very tired. When he went on, his voice was softer. "Other times, when someone wasn't there, we were always worried, wondering about what had gone wrong, what was happening to him, how we were going to find him. Then the three of you were gone, but it was different. Because I knew. Because there was no hope. Because there would be no getting you back. You were all gone for good, and there was nothing I could do." He looked up. "I still remember that feeling Colonel. I mean, I know you're all here _now_, but I can still…" He broke off; there was no real way he could make his friend truly understand.

"And why are you here?" Kinch went on. "Not because we pulled off some scheme in the nick of time. For over two months it was all over, and now suddenly it's not. All because of some machine! Not because we were smart, or because we worked hard. We needed that damn machine to _change_ what happened, instead of avoiding the trouble in the first place, like we've always done before."

"And that bothers you?"

"It bothers me because we can hardly count on having the same luck again!" Kinch exclaimed suddenly. "It _didn't_ work out this time! We're only all safe and sound because of the intervention of some miracle that's so preposterous that it's ridiculous!" He looked Colonel Hogan in the eye. "And so I keep asking myself: What happens the next time?"

Hogan stood and smiled as he placed his hand on his best friend's shoulder. "You know, I think all of you are looking at this the wrong way. You and Carter, still scarred by grief. Newkirk, and even Lebeau a little I think, still obsessing about what should or shouldn't be. It's going to be hard for all of you - I know because it was hard for me - but you need to start looking ahead. What's in front of us is more important than what's behind. How can you avoid what's coming if you're not looking in the right direction to see it? And I have to say, there's a big part of me that's encouraged by all of this."

"Encouraged?"

"Look Kinch, think of it this way: the odds of a time machine just dropping out of the sky exactly when we need it are - you're right - miraculous to the point of being ridiculous. As far as I'm concerned, that means it can't be coincidence. So I figure that someone out there - God or Fate or whatever - must want us to succeed awfully badly. And even if that's not true, remember this: we've still got each other to depend on, each of us willing to do not just the possible to save each other, but apparently the impossible as well." Hogan patted him on the shoulder as Kinch thought about this. "Trust me Kinch," he finished, "I think we'll be fine."

* * *

_Now, the nice thing to do would be to end it here. However, there is another chapter. I don't think you'll like it, but I can post it if you want me to. I'll let you decide. _


	11. hidden up ahead

**_Chapter 10_**

Three men sat alone in the interrogation room.

"Your thoughts gentlemen," the man in the civilian suit asked.

"An interesting story," the General replied, "but it doesn't provide us with any new information."

"Have you confirmed yet how Stahlecker came by his information?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Not the most shining example of military efficiency one would expect gentlemen," the civilian commented. "Can you at least tell me how much Hogan and his men know about the events in Philadelphia?"

"Not enough to worry about," the Admiral answered. "As long as they meet no one else who knows the story, what little they know will mean nothing to them. Dealing with them at this point would draw more attention than the situation warrants."

"I take it there's been no change then?" the man in the suit asked.

The Admiral wasn't fooled; he knew that the man already knew the answer. "No. They have not been able to replicate the experiment as of yet."

Still leaning nonchalantly in his chair, the civilian lit another cigarette, but neglected to offer one to either of the two military men. "You're aware of Danziger's theory?" he asked.

"Yes," the General answered. "But I question how much credence we should give to the Doctor's ideas. Danziger may be less rigid and less cloistered in his own academic view of the world than Burns, but he's so enamoured of the whole idea of time travel that he's eating this up with a fork and spoon. I'm also not sure as to how far we can trust him. His views on the differing roles that he and the military will be playing in this project are arrogant to the point of being naïve."

"Perhaps. However, his zeal for the project will keep him in line to a certain extent. Enough for what we need him for. But his theory may require a change in our thinking."

"Keeping the man may be problematic," the General warned.

"How so?"

"Hogan will fight it for a start."

"Hogan is resourceful, but he's a big fish in a small pond," the Admiral argued. "He's had his way with some Nazi fool for three years, but that's all. Playing at this level is a different game entirely."

"Right now, he has enough clout to give it a try," the General stated. "As secret as it is, too many people know about Hogan's operation. The Brits know even more than we do - "

"And as much as they want Hogan to continue, they're not going to let one American Colonel blackmail them over one insignificant Sergeant," the Admiral interrupted. "Hogan is still in the Army for God's sake. He's still required to obey orders, is he not?"

"Of course he is. But if Hogan really wanted to get the story out, he could. Maybe not overtly, or in any way that we could pin him with, but it would get out just the same."

"What's he going to tell people?" the Admiral scoffed, "That the potential to change the course of all of human history is locked up in the head of a glorified soda jerk from the backwoods of North Dakota?"

"What about after the war?" the civilian asked, suddenly changing tack.

"Undoubtedly Hogan will be promoted," the General said.

"Why? Intelligence work is classified. This is not the war to end all wars, and the military may need to use this particular type of operation again. Especially with the growing situation between us and Russia. In that event, it's unlikely that Hogan's activities will come out. And why promote a man who has done nothing but been a prisoner of war?"

"What about all of the flyers his operation has rescued? They'll eventually talk. They'll want Hogan recognized, and once that happens Hogan will have fame as well as rank on his side."

"Perhaps, perhaps not." the Admiral disagreed. "After the war ends, people will be concentrating on getting on with their lives. They'll be grateful, but they'll be busy getting married, finding jobs, having children. Most of them will be downright eager to look ahead and put the past behind them. _Including_ Hogan for that matter. Promoted or not, he'll be reassigned. He'll get comfortable sitting behind a desk for a couple of years; he may even leave the military entirely. He and his men will start to lose touch with one another. After a few years, a wife, some children, and he may not have the same determination to keep track of them. And if one year he fails to get a Christmas card from one of his men, then what of it? He simply tells himself that his men are building their own lives."

"And if he does investigate?" the General asked. "The man's made a considerable number of contacts over the years."

"Then we'll provide him with our own answers," the man in the civilian suit answered.

"Such as?"

"Something reasonable, believable. A simple accident perhaps. Tragic events happen all the time after all, especially with people as uncoordinated as the Sergeant is reputed to be. And, in that case, Hogan would have no need to question the man's whereabouts any further."

"What about the two non-Americans on Hogan's team? What if they go to their own governments?"

"This war has been a long one and the people of Europe are exhausted. I hardly think Britain and France are going to want to deal with the fantastic stories of two former Corporals. But we'll deal with that should it come up."

"As easily as that?" the General asked.

The man in the civilian suit rose to his feet. "You would be surprised General, just how easy it is."

"So what do we do with Hogan and his men until then?" the General asked as the civilian made his way to the door. The civilian didn't bother turning around.

"Watch them," he said.

* * *

_Well, you asked for it! It's an open-ended threat to our boys with no resolution, and do you know what the really evil part is? Right now, there are no plans for a sequel! MWAH HA HA HA! _


End file.
